The Color of Power
by Aralain
Summary: When hope seemed lost, they did not give up, because Ginny Weasley had a plan. With a heart full of a dark hope, she would venture back and change everything, because nothing she did could make the future worse. Continued from my other account BtNH
1. Chapter 1

Prologue…

When the war was lost by the order, when Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were killed, when all hope seemed lost, they did not give up, because Ginevra Maria Weasley had a plan. With a candle in hand and a heart full of a dark infatuation, she would venture back and change everything, because nothing she did could make the future any worse than it was.

Ginny took her place in the center of an ancient pentagram drawn in the dark sitting room. This was an ancient ritual, not used for thousands of years, since long before Hogwarts began. Every color present was meant to stand for something.

The pentagram was in the center of a dark black sitting room, flowing with black energy, which symbolized power, evil, and mystery. Ginny wore green robes to symbolize growth and harmony. Her hair was covered in a blue bandana standing for depth, stability, trust, truth, and confidence. She had yellow symbols on her face to stand for joy, happiness, and energy. The orange trimmings on her robes were to signify joy, creativity, and success.

Ginny set the candle in the center and walked to her fellow order members. "Do it," she ordered Snape, stopping in front of him. He raised a shaking fist and punched her right side of her face, smearing the yellow markings of joy and happiness, then the nose, her blood spilling over the yellow symbol for energy. Everyone watched with tears in their eyes. Snape was the only one of them strong enough to do it and even he had tears in his eyes, not that he would ever let them fall. Once Ginny's face was significantly battered and bruised, and her green robes for growth and harmony were as torn as the world around them, he stopped, giving her a sad look. She hadn't uttered a single protest as it was her idea.

To appeal to the young orphan who was significantly misused as a child she, knowing him well through his diary, had to become what he was.

She herself, symbolically, represented their times, joy and harmony ripped apart, power and greed taking over. She was already an orphan. All she needed was the abuse. She took the knife from Hermione and looked at it carefully. She used a quick stroke to cut her cheek then shrugged the robes away from her neck before cutting herself twice on her right shoulder very near to her neck. She grimaced against the pain, as she pulled the robes up to cover that. Snape had given her a numbing potion that would keep most of the agony at bay.

"When you get there, if you get the right time, crawl out of the alley, where you should appear, he'll be in the Leaky Cauldron, having a meeting with me about some of the monsters I have raised. Tom may not have been a good guy afterwards, but when I was a second year, before he became head boy, he was nothing if not a noble gentleman," Hagrid said. Ginny nodded, tightly. She opened the front of her robes to reveal the tight faded green tank top and the dull grey skirt that went just past her ankles.

"Go to Dumbledore. He's the transfiguration professor. Go the second you can. He'll provide for you. I know he will," Hagrid said, tearfully, as Ginny put the knife on the left side of her stomach and drew it quickly across, cutting the shirt as she sliced deeply into her skin, before stabbing it into her stomach. She placed her hands to it, dropping the knife and limping to the center of the pentagram.

The last color… was red, to symbolize war, power, strength, determination, and most importantly… love. As the blood spilled over her fingers, Ginny dropped to her knees, the candle before her. She placed a handprint of blood on the opposite side of the candle, facing outwards. She then put one on each side, slightly behind her, forming an almost perfect equilateral triangle between the three bloody hands, within the pentagram. Hermione, Hagrid, Bill, Snape, and the mute Remus (he had lost his voice in the final battle) took their positions on each point of the pentagon. They all joined hands around her. She picked up the candle and lit it with a whispered word. Everyone around her bowed their heads and began to chant, Remus obviously did so without words. She bent her head low, holding the candle above her head as it glowed, coughing blood that rose to her mouth, the pain so mind-numbing that all she could do was hold the candle shakily above her… the only light left in the room as all the other candles blew out. Ginny closed her eyes, hoping it would work, begging it to work.

Everything suddenly went black and the wind swirled around Ginny, until she felt her knees scrape on hard ground as she moved even slightly. There was no longer a candle in her hands, no longer anyone around her, and worst off, there was no longer a potion keeping the pain of the inflictions from her body. There was nothing… only pain, pain, determination… and blood a lot of blood. She had to get to the Leaky Cauldron… she had to and now it really was a matter of life or death.


	2. Chapter 2

AA: (author apology) When I originally wrote this I had Riddle as a seventh year, but that would be after all the bad things happened and he is already lost. So, technically this would have to be in his fifth year if she hopes to make any progress at all, but that wouldn't fit in with the time and her knowing about horcruxes, therefore it would have to be 1997 at the earliest for her to go back, making her sixteen, but that also means that he would have to be going into fifth year, making it fifteen, which would have to change if she wants to be in his year to be able to relate to him. So, I'm making Tom a year older just to satisfy my own ends.

**Tom is sixteen in sixth year, but he hasn't killed his family yet. Sorry for my long-winded apology.**

**To keep Hagrid in the story, I have to make him another year younger than Tom (Three years instead of two). That also means I have to open the chamber and let out that can of worms.**

**Most of this won't mess up your psychological understanding of the story, so just read and enjoy.**

Ginny fought the pain hard, struggling to her feet, looking around her. The people walking around her were just a blur. She shrugged off the robes, and muttered a wand-less incinerating charm. She had had to leave her wand in her own time as part of her story that they had broken her wand and destroyed their books when they found out she was studying on her own.

She stumbled as she took the first step and fell to the ground, moving very dizzy and light-headed toward the end of the alley. She made it to the sidewalk before falling to her knees again. She stayed close to the shadows as people walked briskly past her.

A man tried to stop and help her but she pushed him away frantically, forcing herself to her feet, hoping none of the muggles saw how bad she was bleeding and their morals kicked in. She saw the door, looming wonderfully ahead of her, and she stumbled towards it.

Once she put her hand on the door, the people who had been looking at her looked around confused. They couldn't see her. She summed up her energy and opened the door, falling, like a limp doll through and to the floor. She tried to get up and felt the bustle about her as people came to her aid. She tried pushing herself up with her arms, but fell back tiredly to the ground, her strength spent. It wouldn't do for her to die before she could change anything, except of course raise Tom's disgust for muggles, like he needed any more than that.

One voice commanded them all to move, a voice that was painfully familiar. She felt herself lifted up and looked blearily up at the face of her rescuer, perfect it was him.

"Is she a witch?" another voice asked.

"Of course she is you dolt, how else could she have gotten through the wizarding barrier," the eloquent, yet terribly annoyed voice said. She felt a table beneath her as she was laid down upon it, her head supported by a gentle hand.

"Who did this to you?" the voice said, softly in her ear.

"They-they did," Ginny forced out weakly, trying to keep her story straight with her pain only swirling with pain.

"Were they muggles?" he continued. "Was it a spell or a knife?" he pressed.

"Knife… muggles," she uttered, before fading into darkness.

Hagrid sat, happily discussing the wonders of the Nymphs of the Dark Forest with the handsome Tom Riddle. Tom was the only one who listened to Hagrid, who seemed interested in the creatures he loved so much.

Tom sat back, casually, listening to the eager boy, four years his junior explaining the healing properties of a nymph's song. He wasn't much interested in what the boy had to say, but Hagrid was the only one of his "friends" who could have a polite conversation with him without jokingly calling him "My lord," or "Mr. Voldemort, sir." He imagined the many ways he would get them back if… no when, he stopped himself; "Yes when I become the most powerful wizard in the world I'll give those imbeciles what's coming to them. "When indeed," he mumbled, sipping his butterbeer as he listened to Hagrid.

"There is a green nymph in the forest, ye' see? Oi she's a beau'y tha' one. I 'eard 'er voice and followed it. She was a-singing to a werewolf, she was… calmin' 'im down is what she did," Hagrid said.

"Thirteen and already tracking werewolves in the forest are we Hagrid," Tom laughed at his friend, who blushed, shaking his shaggy hair out of his face. A few girls looked at Tom as he laughed and swooned, watching him longingly. Tom was used to this however, and just kept his attention on his friend.

"Did you find out who the werewolf was?" Tom asked. "I'll bet it's that putrid-smelling apothecary manager," he added, idly.

"Pro'ly is, Tom. Ye' ne'er know though. For all I knows you could be that werewolf," Hagrid smirked.

"Hardly Hagrid. Honestly, you know me better than that, my friend," Tom said. Hagrid beamed at being called Tom's friend. This was one of the times that Tom was reminded how very Gryffindor Hagrid truly was.

One of the reasons Hagrid had so few friends was his oafish, clumsy nature. Tom had no problem with this because his naturally graceful nature, easily evened out their relationship. Hagrid would trip over his own feet, while Tom would use some quick footwork to sidestep his monstrous friend and laughing good-naturedly at him while helping him up.

"Well, 's far as I've 'eard, the 'eadmaster's gonna let me take Care of Magical Creatures a year early, and drop potions. 'veryone thinks it's for the best, since las' year's accident," Hagrid said. He was of course referring to the incident where he blew up the entire potions classroom. No one was killed but many were badly injured, the potions professor included.

"I think I'll feel safer without you in a potions classroom," Tom said, jokingly.

"You know Tom…" Hagrid didn't get to finish his sentence as the door was pushed open, slamming against the wall and there was a thud, then a clamour of voices. Hagrid jumped to his feet, tipping over the table, but Tom caught and righted it, before walking briskly to the door, pushing past people.

"All of you, move now!" he shouted in a commanding voice, upon seeing the broken form of a young girl in ripped and torn clothes, fresh blood leaking from various wounds from her pale skin to the ground. Everyone leapt away at his order. He loved it when people listened to him, but he didn't dwell on the fact. There were more important things to be done currently

Tom turned her over to see her green, unfocused eyes. Her flaming red hair was a stark comparison against her porcelain skin. He knelt beside her, and slid a hand under her knees and another behind her back, lifting her effortlessly from the ground. "Clear that table," he snapped. The innkeeper quickly waved his wand, clearing the table, watching him in awe.

"Is she a witch?" the innkeeper frowned.

"Of course she is, you dolt. How else could she have gotten through the wizarding barriers," Tom snapped, on his last thread of patience with this crowd. He muttered a quick, dark chant and her right hand flashed brilliant blue for a millisecond, long enough for him to confirm that she was a witch, a pureblood witch to boot, from a very ancient family.

He set her gently on the table pulling out his wand, while keeping her head carefully cushioned by his hand. He brushed her hair from her eyes and looked into them, trying to force her to focus. "Who did this to you," he whispered, gently, as everyone in the room held their breaths.

"They-they did," the pale girl said, deliriously.

Tom wasn't stupid, so his next question wasn't who "they" were. She was obviously too disoriented to state that. Being practical, he asked, "Were they muggles? Was it a spell or a knife?"

"Knife," she got out, painfully. Tom clenched his hand around his wand in anger as he already knew the next word that was going to pass her lips, "Muggles."

He let out an angry growl as she slipped unconscious. He gently set her head against the table, removing his cloak, and sliding it to support her head underneath.

"Abscondoctos Velumus!" he stated, with a complicated wave of his wand. A magical blue curtain was constructed around the table, hovering about an inch off the ground. "Hagrid, get in here!" he ordered. Hagrid opened the curtain and stepped through at Tom's order.

"Get a Subsisto Cruor potion from the apothecary. Tell him it's for Tom Riddle," Tom ordered. "Give him this and he'll believe you," Tom said, pulling a chain with the Slytherin snake from around his neck and handing it to Hagrid, who ran off.

He used a cutting charm to end her green shirt where the cut was drawn across her skin; an obvious stab wound in the center. He winced. It wasn't a pretty wound and the one across her cheek wasn't too nice either. The two at to crook of her neck looked as if they had been two quick chops at the shoulder, not deep, but probably painful.

He cast a spell to see if that was all that was wrong with her. There was bruising on her face that he healed with a flick of his wand. He ripped off a long strip of his robes and pressed it against her stomach wound which was pouring blood very heavily.

"Fucking muggles," he muttered, angrily.

She opened her eyes, and blinked several times, "Tom?" she asked blearily.

Tom froze. "How do you know my name?" he demanded.

"Tom," she whispered, distantly, before falling unconscious again. He frowned no she couldn't have known his name. She must have been dreaming about someone with his name. It was a very common name.

Tom frowned, moving his hand towards her head to read her mind, but stopped. He'd deal with that later.

Tom concentrated on stopping the bleeding. Hagrid took that time to push past the curtains, holding the bottle of potion triumphantly.

"Dumbledore's coming," Hagrid said.

"Of course he is," Tom muttered. Wherever Tom was concerned, Dumbledore was sure to be watching nearby, making sure he didn't make a mistake that the old man could exploit. He scowled deeply and snatched the potion from Hagrid. He removed the cloth, dropping it aside.

"Evanescoe," he waved his wand at the wound, before uncapping the potion, careful to keep his wand tightly in his hand.

He poured the potion along the wound, most of it concentrated at the center, where the deep stab-wound was. It completely stopped the bleeding, leaving only the thin, but fairly deep cut. He repeated the sequence on the cut on the side of her face and the two on her shoulder.

"Mr. Riddle, I don't believe you are a registered healer," Dumbledore said, from out of no where.

"I'm not," Tom spat, glaring at the man, who had suddenly appeared inside the make-shift hospital.

"Then step aside lad. I will take care of this," Dumbledore said.

Tom glared at him, but stepped slightly away from the girl's side.

"It was good work I'll grant you, however. You may want to, when deciding a career, choose a profession in medi-wizardry," Dumbledore complimented, pleasantly.

Tom didn't reply, watching Dumbledore closely as the man healed the girl's wounds, leaving only thin scars. He couldn't fight back the rampant thoughts that he might have been able to leave her skin as flawless as it had been before whoever had attacked her had ravaged her so much.

"Ah, much better," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling happily as he looked on the girl's face, he placed his wand to the center of her forehead, stating, Enervate. She jerked awake, sitting up quickly, and nearly falling off the table, but Tom quickly caught and steadied her on her feet. She looked at him in shock. He returned her deer-in-the-headlights look with a very darkly curious one of his own.

Tom noticed she was shivering. He picked up the cloak he had been using to support her head and dropped it over her shoulders. It was much too large and she looked much smaller beneath it.

"Hello, dear, a good day to be alive, is it not?" Dumbledore said in a sickeningly cheerful voice. To Tom's surprise she threw her arms around the old wizard, holding tightly onto him, letting out a soft, childlike cry of, "Professor!"

"Well, it's nice to meet you too!" Dumbledore laughed. Tom rolled his eyes. "I believe you have quite a story to tell!"

Tom dropped the curtains and turned to leave. "Wait!" the little voice cried, distraught. Tom turned and found the girl hugging him tightly. "Thank you!" she whispered. Tom hesitantly hugged the girl back and saw a flash of light.

"Reporters already," he thought, rolling his eyes. Tom sighed releasing her and stepping back, awkwardly. "Dumbledore," he muttered. "I will speak with you later, Hagrid."

He glanced once more at the girl, who was hiding behind Hagrid, now, trying to hide from the cameras. Hagrid was a good foot and a half taller than her so he easily hid her from the cameras, his chubby face beaming at the fact there was a pretty girl hanging on his arm.

Tom inwardly chuckled at that thought. The thirteen-year-old half-giant, for Tom had no doubt that was what he was, had as little chance with a girl that pretty than Dumbledore did. Tom disappeared among the crowd, ignoring the pats on his back from congratulatory wizards and witches. Only as he slipped into Diagon Alley, did he realize that he hadn't gotten her name. "Damn," he muttered.

I hope this is all good. Please, if you see any mistakes, not spelling and such, but mistakes in timeline, feel free to complain. I really am sorry, but I forgot that the chamber was opened in '43 not '44 and since I had already messed that up I made Tom a seventh year, just for good measure.

Tina: OMG! I absolutely adore you. I'm shocked. You follow me to any pairing I even venture to follow! You are so awesome. Seriously! Thank you and I hope this very sketchy era doesn't mix you up. What do you think Grindelwald should be fighting for? I mean, Dumbledore beat him, sure and it was supposed to be what he was most famous for, but the cannon never goes into what Grindelwald really was fighting for. I doubt he was fighting just to rule the world… I mean that's unrealistic, but he had to have been fighting for something… I don't know what to do about him. He's the big bad in this era, so I can't just ignore him can I?

Rainbow: I'll think about that

Txgirl88: Review again please and if you have any suggestions they would be much appreciated. I'm mostly looking for suggestions about what to do with Grindelwald…

Ewa: Um… thanks… er… spock? Hehe. Jkjk. Thanks for reviewing.

Nasta1970: Thanks, I'm still in the process of thinking, but I rely on reviews to get through my stories so I put that chapter up. Thanks for your review!

Review!


	3. Chapter 3

Ginny watched Tom go with mixed feelings: relief that her plan had worked, and a sense of reassurance that she had finally, for the first time seen what he looked like in person, that he wasn't just some figment of her imagination; there was also exasperation with herself for the stupid thing she had just done, hugging Dumbledore right in front of Tom. Tom hated Dumbledore. She knew that better than anyone.

Tom had long ago described how Dumbledore would follow him around like he was a criminal. She found out afterwards that he was a criminal, a horrible one at that, but her heart still ached for him.

Ginny didn't know how Dumbledore could have started treating Tom so horribly from day one. She thought that the story was rather one-sided. She had many times pondered that Dumbledore may have had a very good reason for treating Tom the way he did, but Ginny's dreams, which usually included Tom, reminded her of the horrible part of him the part that had taken over her mind when she was only eleven, and the one she knew was beneath that, the one she knew he was when he spoke to her about his childhood and she related hers.

She knew when she had made this plan the both sides of him, but she loved the side she had met in the diary, or at least she had thought at eleven that it had been love, now it had turned into a sort of fascination, and she knew that if she used all she knew about him to her advantage, she could make him stop doing what was about to ruin his life.

Ginny felt a hand on her shoulder and she jumped, clutching the warm cloak closer to her, but a more serious face of Dumbledore met her. She reluctantly moved away from Hagrid, who was bravely telling the cameramen to leave her alone.

Dumbledore led her to the fireplace. "Transfiguration office, Hogwarts," he said, seriously, and she knew it wasn't just a statement. It was a command. He put a bit of floo powder in her hand and nudged her towards the fire.

"Hagrid, would you like to join us for a cup of tea?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

"Sure I would, professor!" Hagrid said, brightly. "I'll go first, shall I?" he asked, brightly, accepting some floo powder from the transfiguration professor. Hagrid squeezed into the fireplace and said, "Transfiguration Office, Hogwarts!" in a gruff voice.

Ginny followed, repeating his words and found herself spinning. She was spat out of the fireplace roughly, and nearly fell, but Hagrid caught her, steadying her.

"You have to be careful about Professor Dumbledore's fireplace. It's got a kick to it," Hagrid told her.

Ginny nodded and watched as the former-headmaster… no the future-headmaster walked calmly out of the fireplace, and walked to his desk, saying pleasantly, "Lemon drop?"

Ginny shook her head, unsteadily.

"So, Miss…"

"Wesley," Ginny said. She had already come up with an alias before leaving. They had been careful to cover all parts of this move. "My name is Ginette Wesley."

"A good name that is, strong, stable," the professor said, idly, before leaning forward over his desk from his seat to look at her. "Tell me, Miss Wesley what happened to you?"

Ginny took an envelope out of her pocket. They had been afraid someone might be present when she needed to explain the situation to Dumbledore, who, they decided, would be the only person to know who Ginette Wesley truly was.

Hagrid watched the exchange frowning.

"Ah, yes, I was aware you were a witch, Miss Wesley," Dumbledore said, as the letter instructed. "Your certificate of birth to a wizarding hospital was not needed for that."

Hagrid curiosity faded as his question was answered. He sat on Dumbledore's large Gryffindor-red couch, taking up most of it himself, while Ginny had placed herself in front of the professor's desk.

"Your story, dear," Dumbledore continued as the letter also instructed.

"I am from a muggle orphanage. I sold everything I had left from my mother and father and got enough money to buy a wand, years ago. I sneaked away regularly to get books so that I could learn magic. I knew they threw away all my letters of acceptance from Hogwarts. I… they found me studying," Ginny cast her eyes down.

"Studying magic, you mean?" Albus said, eyes scanning the letter again as if he could not believe what it said there, explaining how Ginny was from a future where Tom Riddle had practically destroyed the wizarding world after once being defeated and had killed Dumbledore. It explained her plan and a bit of her background, but what was most important that he paid the most attention to was the part about a diary, a diary that had been able the ruin a girl's life. A diary created by Tom Riddle that had almost led to his first rebirth. How had that young man done such horrible things? Dumbledore didn't trust him, but to become worse than the Dark Lord Grindelwald?

"Yes, they were so angry. I… they, they're muggles you see and they don't-"

"I understand dear," Dumbledore said, gently, putting the parchment aside. He patted a hand that she had rested on his desk.

"I'm alive, though," Ginny said, proudly. "Three miles to the Leaky Cauldron and I made it," Ginny easily feigned tears by letting her mind linger on what she had really survived.

"Who was that boy?" Ginny asked, in a soft, questioning voice, timid and quiet, which had been her nature for over a year now, since the Weasley Massacre.

"That was Thomas Riddle that was. He's a great man, great man," Hagrid said, in a choked up voice. He was so obviously buying her story, Ginny was glad to note, knowing he'd run straight to Tom and tell him the story.

"Thank him for me will you? I owe him my life," Ginny asked in a soft voice. Dumbledore frowned, she had not mentioned the part of the plan of what she was going to change. It dawned on him… she was going to attempt to seduce the smartest, most evil young man to come through Hogwarts to the light side…

"Oh dear, I've forgotten the tea. It will make you feel much more comfortable dear, I assure you. "Binny," Dumbledore said in a louder tone. A house elf popped up and Dumbledore began to instruct it quietly.

Ginny suddenly burst into tears, sobs racking through her body, surprising both of the people in the room. Without meaning to, Dumbledore had reminded her of Hermione and SPEW. Hermione, who had been alive when Ginny had left, was still lost to her now. She felt herself in Hagrid's clumsy embrace and was glad for it. He was kneeling at her side, hugging her where she sat in her chair.

When Ginny had finally calmed down, the house elf had left and come back and disappeared again, leaving a tray of tea and biscuits.

"Sorry, just thinking of a friend," Ginny said with a little hiccup.

"Of course," Dumbledore gave her a gentle smile.

Ginny watched Hagrid make his way towards the couch and frowned. "Hagrid, there's a chair."

"I won't fi' in tha'," Hagrid said, bashfully.

"Nonsense, let me see your wand," Ginny said, holding out her hand. Hagrid stood and handed it to her. She cast a spell on the chair, which didn't look to have changed at all.

"Sit on it… trust me," Ginny said. He hesitantly sat on the chair. It creaked slightly, but magically it was able to fit his frame.

Ginny handed Hagrid his wand with a small, sad smile. Dumbledore, with a smile on his face, placed a cup of steaming tea in front of each of them.

"So, Miss Wesley, you're planning on taking up at Hogwarts then? It's obvious you have the magical ability, having received a letter already," Dumbledore said.

"If… you'll have me. I mean… I don't have money or…" Ginny trailed off, meekly.

"Oh that can easily be dealt with, dear. Hogwarts does have a scholarship program for students unable to come up with their own money," Dumbledore said. "Do you know anything of your family? If I had to guess, I'd think you were a distant relative of the Weasleys," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"I'm sure it's a possibility sir," Ginny said. "I don't even know if my real parents were muggles or wizards, or one of each," Ginny told him, softly.

"You know of the Dark Lord Grindelwald I'm sure, though, correct?" Dumbledore asked.

"I have heard of him in the magical library I sneak away to," Ginny murmured. "I have only heard his name though, not much else." This was true for the most part. She had only heard him mentioned. Her parents didn't even speak of him much. He was before their time.

"Miss Wesley, Grindelwald is the single greatest threat to the newly-established Ministry of Magic. He wants to bring down the government and segregate the muggle-borns and half-bloods to schools separate of purebloods. He kills Ministry Officials and anyone who opposes his ideas. He had connections everywhere, even in Hogwarts, I'm afraid, contacts I can do nothing about," Dumbledore explained. Ginny looked down.

"So… I might have to go to a different place?" Ginny asked.

"Not you, ye're a full-blooded witch!" Hagrid informed her.

"How would you know that?" Ginny asked, surprised.

Hagrid smiled. "Tom made a spell and whenever 'e meets 'nyone 'e says it to be a'le to tell if they's a wizard or not. It also shows if they are muggle-born, half blood, or full-blooded wizard. When he said the spell, your wand hand glowed blue, the color for purebloods. It was the brightest blue I'd ever seen, probably means you're pureblood from **way** back," Hagrid said. "Tom says it's his spell to be on his guard around anyone who might be working for Grindelwald."

"Indeed…" Albus said, darkly.

"He sounds so smart," Ginny said, faintly.

"'e is. Tom is a genius!" Hagrid said, beaming, proudly at having such a great young man as his friend. "'e's so great 'e is," Hagrid beamed.

"Well, my dear, we'd best get you registered for the new year at Hogwarts. I'm not sure how far you've studied, but from the evidence of the spell you just performed, I'm supposing seventh year?" Albus asked, hinting. Ginny nodded her head to him.

"You're in Tom's year!" Hagrid said excitedly. "What are you studying to be?"

"I have always wanted to be a healer," Ginny said, shyly.

"Sorted?" Albus asked, standing and walking to the sorting hat.

Ginny looked at the hat, reproachfully, knowing where it would want to put her, but she couldn't have that. She knew Tom and he was all right with being friends with a Gryffindor, but… no, it just wouldn't do.

Ginny stiffened as the hat was placed on her head. "Hello, another Wea-oh sorry, Wesley," The hat spoke directly into her mind. "My, my you're quite bent on this aren't you? Who wouldn't be with such a bleak future ahead? Tom Riddle, eh? You should be careful with that one," the hat told her.

"Can you please just sort me?" Ginny asked, exhaustedly.

"Fine, fine, not that you haven't heard this before I see. Yes, I see. You asked to be a Gryffindor," the hat said. "Ah yes, decisions really do make the person. You have acquired a special gift since we last met, haven't you?" the hat asked, a smile in his voice.

"I didn't ask for it," Ginny thought, testily.

"No, no, but you deserved it. You would have been a Slytherin, you know? That's what I wanted to make you. I can see your mind. You want to step out from the shadow of those brothers of yours, do you? It's a good thing your parents aren't even born yet, isn't it?" the hat told her, mentally, letting out a loud bark of a laugh.

"Slytherin, then?" Ginny thought to him.

"Your mind is very strong, bent on succeeding… most Slytherins are very strong-minded when it comes to the tasks set before them and there's a rebellious streak in you, not to mention that you've grown much more wary since we last met, or since we will meet," the hat corrected. "But then I see your loyalty, your honesty, your purity…" the hat said, reluctantly.

"You do like words that end in T-Y don't you?" Ginny muttered.

"I can't decide. It's a draw: Slytherin and Hufflepuff. I haven't had had such a difficult decision to make in three decades. It's astounding. I've never had such a split," the hat pondered. "Professor, she is a split," the hat spoke aloud.

The headmaster took the hat from Ginny's head placing it on its shelf. "Between what two houses?" the headmaster asked it.

"Hufflepuff and Slytherin, I can honestly say in all the millennia I have been in existence I haven't come across one who fit between those two, Hufflepuff generally took all types, but she did prize loyalty quite a bit and hard-workers and this girl does fit into that category… powerfully loyal," the hat stated. "I think she should be placed in Slytherin however, for her own piece of mind."

"Thank you hat," Dumbledore said, pleasantly.

"Of course. Good luck with that one," the hat said, with a twisted smile on his grizzled seam.

"Sir, shouldn't the hat be in the Headmaster's office?" Ginny asked, as the professor seated himself.

"Why yes, actually, but the Headmaster allows me to keep it in my office. I have quite a few wonderful conversations with the Sorting hat," the headmaster said.

"I 'ave to go, headmaster. It was nice meeting you, Miss Ginette," Hagrid said, still seeming slightly in awe about the split and that she was sorted into Slytherin.

"Call me Ginny-Gin," Ginny corrected. Ginny didn't want to be called by the name all her fallen comrades had called her. She was starting a new life. Why not a new nickname to start that, even if it wasn't much of a change...

"All 'ight then. I'll see ya Gin!" Hagrid said, cheerily, walking to the fireplace. He nodded to the transfiguration professor, disappearing into the green flames.

"1999?" Dumbledore's questioning voice brought her eyes away from the fireplace and she nodded, resolving to explain her past one more time before it faded away, ceasing to exist forever if Ginny could help it.

I'd be much obliged to receive reviews because I can't really get into my other account to read them.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry that it took me so long, but it was hard to move very far from where I left off after I hadn't been with this story for so long. I had to reread this story many, many times before I could pick up a very old trail of thought for the story. Please, enjoy this chapter, and I hope the next will be up faster.

Ginny explained the exhausting tale that had led her to be in the position she was in: the war, the prophesy, the loss, the idea, and finally the actual plan. He seemed impressed, but frowned. "Why not just bring back an assassin? Why keep him alive?"

"We can't, sir, kill an innocent, again, for he's done nothing wrong. There's been too much death. The only one who could do it, I would not allow. He is a broken man and this war has torn him apart," Ginny explained.

"But isn't it the logical end to such a trying story?" Dumbledore asked. "He had taken over the world, a feat only really thought of in stories.

"Logical, yes, humane, no; we couldn't do it," Ginny shook her head.

"This is a very hard thing to achieve. This young man took advantage of you… he killed your friends," Dumbledore said.

"No, his horcrux killed my friends. That was not a good part of his soul. Tom Riddle tore his soul into seven parts. There was little semblance of humanity or any honor left in him after that. He was alive in my time with one horcrux and as I'm sure you can understand that isn't living. We couldn't have gotten to it or him through the death eaters he'd acquired."

"We couldn't do anything. I came up with this idea and found the ancient spell of balance. You would be able to see it, but we made all that we used susceptible to the "evanesce" spell knowing that was the one Tom would use and they were washed away after they were covered in blood. The bandana and candle disappeared and you can see my robes: green, which symbolizes growth and harmony.

"So how much do you know of this time?" Dumbledore asked.

"Everything that Hagrid has told me. I know essentially everything that will happen between now and 1998. I've studied up to sixth year, but I'll probably have to take the exams of this time, because you know how education progresses," Ginny explained. "Is there really such thing as a Hogwarts Scholarship program?" she asked.

"Actually, there is. Tom comes to Hogwarts on this scholarship, as will you," Dumbledore explained.

"That is really wonderful of you, Headmaster. I don't know how I can repay you," Ginny said, biting her lip as she realized that she had called him Headmaster by accident, but his eyes just twinkled and he said nothing.

"Well, I am extremely fond of wool socks, but I believe I can appreciate where you're coming from if not completely understand it. So, from now on, you are Ginette Wesley and neither of us can ever speak about this ever again. You might as well put the past away. Remember, young lady. You may be here because of bad tidings, but that doesn't mean that you have to have a bad time here at school."

"Thank you for your insight, sir," Ginny said, smiling slightly.

"So those injuries were staged then?" Dumbledore asked.

"They were real, but many of them were self-inflicted. I was helped with the bruising," Ginny mumbled, thinking about Snape. He had gone through a lot and everyone distrusted him. It had a lot to do with the staged murder of Dumbledore and the actual murder of Dumbledore that he was present for. He had come back to their side, but only for Hermione. It was some sort of weird, student-professor thing. He saved her from being killed by Lucius Malfoy."

"You are very creative. I presume there will be no more self-destructive behavior then?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, one dose of mind-numbing pain is enough for me. Don't even worry about that," Ginny replied.

"Very well. Now, let me see," he mumbled shuffling through his drawers.

"Aha," he exclaimed, pulling out a small oval-shaped piece of steel, third dimensional with writing all around it in a latin, but she understood brief frazes as she read them when he handed it to her. "Here we are."

"This will get you everything you need. Don't worry about the costs. The Hogwarts account is so full that it has been magically expanded 247 times since it was first established by Rowena Ravenclaw. Each teacher is allowed to sponsor one student and I am choosing you, hoping you shall boost my own popularity with the staff," he said with only a hint of jesting, which earned him a small grin.

"I can't tell you, professor, how much this means to me. Hagrid has said that you were as kind now as you ever were, but I didn't want to get my hopes up. You truly are wonderful," Ginny said.

"I thank you my dear, but know that you must be careful. Only professors of the main subjects are allowed to sponsor a student and we only get to choose one. You are my protégé and any news of your quest shall be of course reported directly to me. I'm sure the innkeeper at the Leaky Cauldron has an empty room and Hogwarts has always had a large discount there. Use that card and you'll be saving everyone money in the end."

Ginny nodded at the headmaster's backwards logic as it would be less money to not go there altogether. "I do thank you professor," Ginny said softly, before turning to leave. She stopped and turned back.

"You will always be the greatest, inside and out of the hearts of all pure-hearted people of the Wizarding World. You are hope to all those who need it most you will always remain the greatest wizard who ever lived; I just wanted to tell you that," Ginny said.

"I wasn't aware that I was ever the **greatest**, but I thank you for the magnificent compliment. I'm sure that you'll be quite a witch yourself my dear," Dumbledore said, sincerely.

"Have an enjoyable day, sir," Ginny said as she stood, making her way to the fireplace. She took some floo powder and threw it to the graceful flames that rose in a dramatic crescendo.

"You don't know how grateful I am," she said, seriously.

"You're welcome, my dear," he said.

Without another word, she disappeared into the flames, saying clearly, "The Leaky Cauldron." She looked around the cauldron discreetly, clutching her oval "credit card" of sorts. She walked directly to Tom, keeping her head down.

"Hello there. Oh, you're the… I'm pleased to see that you've been healed," he said, smiling widely at her. She nodded her head. "I was given this by Professor Dumbledore. He said I could pay for a room with it," she said.

"Well, I don't think I've seen one of these in ten years," said a man behind the young innkeeper, Tom. She assumed it was his father as he was much older. She was amazed that Tom was even born yet, actually. She had thought he was much younger, but this made him near his seventies in her old time. "May I?" he asked, holding out a hand for it. She handed it to him. He looked closely at it, awed by it.

"These were created in 1685. There are only four left. You've very lucky to be entrusted with one young lady. Who did you say gave it to you?" he questioned.

"Professor Dumbledore," she replied.

"Well, I'll be damned. I didn't even know he had one of them. He is very old, I'll grant you, in his late nineties, I believe, but this is very trusting of the headmaster. I suppose we'll be expecting great things from that old lion, won't we?" he said.

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

"Well go right on up to room twenty five," he offered, handing her a key along with the silver oval.

She thanked them both, walking quickly up the stairs, staring at the oval as she went. It was shocking to think just how rare these were. She hadn't heard of them, but her family had paid her way through school, no matter how stretched they became. She shook her head, trying to push those thoughts from her mind, as she walked, she didn't look ahead and ran straight into someone, barely managing to catch a hand onto the railing before she fell over. He unfortunately fell back onto the steps.

"Er, hello," she said, blushing bright red in her face and her ears. It was Tom of all people who she had to nearly mow over.

"Can't see you without someone getting hurt can I?" was Tom's reply.

"I think this is yours then?" he asked, picking the silver oval up off of the stair next to him as he himself rose to his feet.

"Thank you and I apologize. I wasn't watching where I was going."

"It's fine, but you really shouldn't let people see that. It's worth millions upon millions of galleons. It's best to get money at Gringotts with it and then use that money at the shops," Tom said. "Do you know the Wizarding money system?" he asked, lifting her hand and placing the Hogwarts oval into it.

"Well, yes, Galleons, sickles, then nuts, but about how much does it cost per year?" she asked.

"Well, if you need a new wand as well as books and robes, you may have to take out near 300 galleons, but in a normal year, 200 galleons is more than enough," Tom told her.

"Three-hundred? That is a lot, isn't it?"

"Yes… the first year is the killer," he said. "Once you see the vault, however, you don't feel quite as embarrassed, I assure you. Would you like an escort to Gringotts?" he asked.

"No, I'll be fine, thank you. It's the large white building is it not?" she asked. He nodded.

"Thank you though," she replied.

"What was your name?" she asked.

"My name is Ginette Wesley. It's a pleasure to meet you, and I can't tell you how grateful I am for what you did for me," she said.

"Don't mention it," he said. "My name is Tom," he introduced, deciding that he wouldn't address the fact that she already knew that… or did she? It didn't matter. He would find out at some point.

"Thank you, Tom," she said, again, stepping around him and hurrying up the stairs, the oval clutched in her hand.

She saw a young woman walk past her and stopped in her tracks, turning to stare after her. "Professor McGonagall?" she thought. It was impossible. She looked only a few years older than Ginny. Ginny stared until she could no longer see her, and a bit after, shocked by the discovery that Professor McGonagall had been rather pretty. She shook her head, thinking back. She realized that McGonagall had to have just graduated. She sighed. It would have been nice to have her old professor around, even if she was very little involved in what was happening, but it mattered little. She was tired and just wanted to get to her room to take a long nap.

She got to her door, unlocking it with her key. She saw the bed and walked to it quickly, shoving the oval into her pocket. She dropped onto the pillows and immediately fell into a deep sleep.

When she woke up she would have toface her first full day as Ginnette Weasley, charge of Albus Dumbledore, born in 1927, Hogwart's class of 1945.

Thank you for reading and hopefully enjoying my new… semi-short chapter of the Color of Power


	5. Chapter 5

Tabasco-I don't know. I was thinking about the whole Quidditch thing before I actually began to write the story, but I was undecided. Tom doesn't strike me as the quidditch-playing type, but maybe Ginny could get away with it. Tell me more about what you think about that situation and I'll think about it some more.

Lettie-short and to the point. Thank you for being at least someone who takes the two seconds to review.

Maybe it wasn't faster and maybe this is a bit shorter than I'd like to give, but I wanted to give you something.

Chapter 5

Ginny did indeed wake up early the next morning. She didn't realize that she was in the past until she stepped downstairs and saw the vaguely familiar people. It was strange how she kept waking up thinking it would just be a normal day, perhaps with a battle against the death eaters thrown in. Would she wake up every morning forgetting where she was or would she get used to the time after a while?

She knew exactly how much it took to pay for a year at Hogwarts and a list of the needed items arrived on her desk that morning. She ate in her room, food which the innkeeper personally brought up to her. She had eaten quickly, enough to give her a slight stomach ache, but with the little food Snape had been able to provide for them at their hideout and the lack of food she had had the day before, she was absolutely starving.

She reached into her pocket, making sure she had the oval, before leaving out the back of the Leaky Cauldron. She walked down the street, self-assuredly, going straight for Gringotts. She saw Hagrid out of the corner of her eye, peering into a shop window, completely oblivious to her, but it reminded her that she was now a different person. She couldn't be the unshakeable Ginny Weasley. She had to be more skittish.

She tried a bit, and then some more, but she wasn't able to really make her walk seem more pathetic. She only made herself look awkward. She sighed. She had to be herself but at the same time, be another person. She was that person, truly… very deep down, that lost orphan, alone and damaged, but she couldn't find a way other than masking it to deal with it. Therefore, she couldn't show the world that she had pain.

She had a throbbing headache by the time she reached the steps leading to Gringotts Bank and immediately stopped thinking about how to make herself look miserable, because the headache had already succeeded in making her miserable. She rubbed her temple, sighing deeply, as she approached the head Goblin, who looked down at her condescendingly, as she wore her blood-stained muggle clothes. She had nothing else and she needed money. It wasn't as though she could help what she was wearing.

"Do you need something little girl?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you. I need to access the Hogwarts account," she said, snippy.

"Well, if you produce the necessary object, we can move the process right along can't we?" he said, nearly growling at her.

She flashed it before his eyes, and for a moment, there was a light of recognition and of doubt, possibly that it wasn't authentic. As she shoved it back into her pocket, he waved a goblin over, whispering direct orders to him. The Goblin nodded solemnly.

Ginny hurried after the quick little goblin, ignoring the stares she received at the state of her muggle clothes. She wished briefly that she had made the spell let her keep her yellow robes, but then thought about the contrast of the red on the yellow. That would have drawn even more attention.

She felt rather dirty and the first thing she would do after she got her hands on a pair of clothes, would be to shower and change out of the dirty clothes. Even if she had used cleansing charms, it didn't feel right walking around wearing blood-stained clothes.

She stepped into the cart as the Goblin indicated, and stared around her as the cart rolled quickly past so much that she didn't even have time to take in. She gasped as the cart stopped and a great dragon stood before them.

"Oval," he grunted. She had to think for a moment about what he wanted, but soon had the object out in plain sight for the dragon. The dragon stepped back, bowing his head.

"Vault 17," the goblin said, in an almost bored voice. His voice was still a lot like a grunt, but she was still in awe with the odd behavior of the dragon to pay any mind to a goblin voice. She stepped out, handing him the lamp. He placed his hand against the door.

"Hand palm-flat against the door and press the oval in there," the goblin indicated, quickly. She did as she was told, pressing the oval into the yellow opening. The goblin nodded, holding out his hand to take the oval. She relinquished the treasure and he pressed it to the door briefly. It made a gentle clucking sound and smoke was released from it before it opened, but she didn't see the vault she was expecting, just another door.

The goblin seemed unsurprised. There were three circles on the door, purple ones. "Your face goes there and your hands there," he indicated. She nodded, placing her face into the center circle and her hands into the two others. The door emitted a bird-like screech and in a second it was gone, replaced by another.

There was a large snake on this door and it moved around. "Feed the oval to the snake," the goblin instructed. She gave him an incredulous look that clearly said she didn't want to, but he pressed the oval back into her hands. She tried a few times, but couldn't catch the snake by grabbing at it. Finally, getting irritated, she slammed her hand down on it, stopping it in it's place. The mouth opened and she dropped the oval in. Finally this door opened, with a rather loud, incessant hissing that hurt her ears. She stumbled back as the hissing turned into words in her head, words that were loud and harsh and condemning and then they stopped.

She sighed, getting not only irritated, but a bit frightened. This time, there was no snake, nor circles, but there were two hands emerging from the door. She looked at the Goblin who ordered her to move forward. She placed her hand on both of the hands before her, grasping them. They were stone and then they softened turning into what felt like real flesh, human hands that pulled her through the door.

She looked back. The hands were gone, and there was a simple door with a doorknob. The goblin was gone. She gripped the little pouch she had in her hands. She had found it in her room when she woke up.

She turned her eyes back on the room, but she couldn't see anything. She frowned, before lifting her hand and walking forward. Suddenly bright lights flashed on one at a time all around the room, fires from every few feet of wall and she couldn't even see to the end of the vault it was so far away.

Ginny had never seen anything like it. There were so many mounds of gold and silver that she thought she would go blind from the brightness. There was more than anything, more than… there was just more. She couldn't even describe how much she saw as she stood there. The piles seemed to go on forever. She began to blush at how much trust Dumbledore had in her, when he didn't even know her. It was rather alarming.

Ginny walked to one of the piles, and began slowly counting out piece-by-piece how much she would need for the upcoming year, including what she might need during the year and to buy a few muggle casual outfits. She was counting money into her purse, not wanting to spend a knut more than she had to when she heard a chuckle behind her, a chuckle she knew all to well from both her nightmares and her dreams.

She jumped, nearly dropping her perfectly calculated bag of money. "I see you've been looking around the shops for prices. How much exactly are to taking?" he asked.

"193 Galleons, 8 sickles and 9 knuts," she said, simply, her face taking on that embarrassed shade of red again.

"All you have to do is shove some into the bag and leave, you know. That goblin out there is nearly out of his mind angry that you're taking so long," Tom said.

"W-Well, I didn't want to betray the trust of the staff by taking more than I need to," she said, looking anywhere but at his face. It was hard to appear embarrassed. Usually when she was embarrassed someone would be on the receiving end of an angry yell by now.

"They trust that you will get everything you need without using second-hand stores. You are representing Hogwart's teachers, and they are not supposed to be portrayed as cheap. It just gives the ministry something to poke fun at, besides you're a pureblood. You deserve more than ragged, mangled clothes," he said, seriously.

She felt she might gag, but it would help her slow change of his mind against his biased state. "What's so great about being pureblood? Fat load it's helped me," she said, letting her voice sound as annoyed as she really was.

"Your blood isn't tainted by the muggles, like those people who nearly killed you," he said, his eyes flashing black, though she couldn't quite pinpoint why.

"There are also muggles who are good and kind. I know many muggles who are much nicer than… well, I don't know, but they're not all bad," she said, unable to come up with a name, from this time, off the top of her head.

"How can you go through that and still not see how despicable they are?" Tom asked, disgusted.

"When you see all of that bad, Tom… you also see a lot of the good. You can't have one without the other. Muggles and Wizards, Dark and Light, Good and Bad," she said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get out of these clothes. They make me rather uncomfortable," she said, brushing past him and opening the door, as she opened it, she felt something weigh down in her pocket; obviously the oval had magically come back to her.

"Finally," the goblin grumbled. There were two now, but she got into the cart with the one that she knew. He took her back to the top and she sighed as she entered the Gringotts foyer.

Please take a moment to review, good or bad. I usually don't welcome bad reviews, but I need some hard-core constructive criticism. Any English Professors out there? Hello? Anyone?


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: not mine ya ya I know

I have been overcome with a fit of inspiration. Sorry I left off so long. I hope I still have interested readers out there somewhere.

Please enjoy and do not hate me too much. I shall be happy to get as many chapters up as possible and I should love encouragement through your reviews if you would kindly allow me that privilege.

Smartschooler9

Ginny wondered if she should indeed disgrace Dumbledore by arriving shabbily dressed, but decided that that would not be the case. He was not the type to look down on someone who exercised propriety. She did however, get fitted for new robes and a uniform rather than going for the old. Though the muggle clothes she chose at a shop just outside of Diagon Alley were a bit shabby, they weren't in dreadful condition.

Ginny bought her books however in second hand stores, though she was almost certain the ones she bought were third or fourth hand. Her cauldron she got for a very agreeable price and she was quite certain it would not fall apart with the first acidic potion she made. The last stop of the day was coming up fast and Ginny found herself soon in front of Olivander's Wand Shop.

Ginny looked up at the intimidating place. She had been here only once before when Ron had gone to receive his wand after breaking his hand-me-down after second year. Ginny had never received her very own wand. It made her incredibly nervous that she should now be faced with the idea of a wand that was made just for her was foreign. She opened the door to find it seemed empty. She walked to the counter and suddenly around the corner came a strange-looking man. He looked quite the same as he did in her own time, which surprised her a bit, but she conceded that Dumbledore didn't look much changed either.

Ginny was relieved when only a small fifteen minutes later she was allowed to leave with her 11" wand made of Yew. He had gone on and on about the properties of the core of her wand. It was very rare he said, but he warned her that it would be extremely powerful and she might sometimes have to try to control the level of magic she tried to funnel through it. It was Chimaera Scale, which it turned out was extremely expensive, but when he heard that Dumbledore was her sponsor, he lowered the price quite a bit. He seemed very proud of this particular wand.

Ginny looked down at the box in her hand, ducking down a side-alley and sliding down the wall to sit on the ground. She opened the beautiful box carefully. She lowered her hand and ran her fingers along the light wood. She had never had a wand for her own. She could practically feel the magic of the wand.

"Are you lost, my dear?" a cool voice asked. Ginny looked up sharply to the pale face of a man she did not recognize. He could only be a few years older than she. Her nimble fingers closed around the wand before her.

"Actually, I am quite all right," Ginny said, coolly. She didn't like the look in his eyes.

"You're sure?" he asked, stepping towards her.

"Sir! I am quite fine!" she exclaimed, moving her wand quickly to point directly in his face.

"What exactly do you plan on doing with that?" he asked, tauntingly.

"Let me suppose that you plan to attack me. If that be the case, I wonder what your chances of getting your wand out before I hex you into oblivion?" Ginny said, her voice low and challenging.

"Well, feisty are we?" he said, smirking.

"Leave her alone Dolohov," a voice demanded. Ginny glanced only slightly to her right to see another with his wand trained on this boy.

"What are you going to do about it, Potter?" Dolohov asked, tauntingly. Ginny's breath caught in her throat and she looked between the two, sharply.

"Don't push me," Dolohov growled. Ginny's eyes narrowed at Dolohov, who seemed to be completely ignoring that she was there.

She flicked her wand brutally, no words leaving her lips but a bright light shot from her wand, catching Dolohov in the side, and throwing him into the wall on the other side of the small alley, leaving quite an indent as a few bricks fell around him, dust rising around it. He lay unconscious on the ground and Ginny let out her angry breath.

"Fool," she muttered, kicking his wand further down the alley, but taking no further action against him. She picked up the box she had dropped. She carefully placed her new wand within it.

"Well, I didn't expect that," the other man said. Ginny felt a small smile play across her face. She glanced at him, finding easily the resemblance with her childhood crush.

"Thank you very much for distracting him," Ginny said.

"Of course!" the nice young man said. "I'm Felton… Felton Potter," he introduced, holding out his hand. Ginny smiled at his eagerness to make a new acquaintance and took his hand warmly.

"Gin Wesley," she replied.

"New wand?" he asked, looking down at the box. She nodded in the affirmative.

"Forgive me, but I don't believe I've ever seen you before," he said.

"I am attending Hogwarts this year," she said.

"Really a transfer? What year?" he asked, interestedly.

"Seventh," she replied.

"I don't think there's been a transfer at Hogwarts in ten years," Felton told her. "Have you been sorted yet?"

"Yes," she replied. "I was placed in Slytherin."

"In that case, I feel it my duty to warn you that you've just met one of your kinder house mates," Felton said, gesturing to Dolohov. Ginny was a bit wary about his reaction to finding her a Slytherin, but it seemed he didn't care too much which was a good thing. She could use a few friends if she were to live in this time indefinitely

"Well that certainly does not bode well," Ginny said, smiling.

"I was just going to meet a few friends at Newt and Eye for lunch. It's a restaurant not far away. Would you like to join me?" he asked.

"Oh…" Ginny was caught a bit by surprise. "I-I'd love to," she said.

Ginny found the group of Gryffindors pleasant upon first sight, and immediately recognized one among them. Poppy Pomfrey looked quite pleasant in her younger age and greeted Felton's newfound friend with great enthusiasm. She immediately pulled the girl over to what Ginny later found was their "regular" table.

"Do you play quidditch?" Poppy asked.

"Well, I can fly a bit," Ginny said, softly. She had not thought whether or not she should be able to play quidditch in this time. It seemed such a trivial matter in the scheme of things. She thought hard. She would have to have someone teach her.

"I hope you are quite rotten at it!" Felton exclaimed.

"Really?" Ginny said, a bit surprised.

"Sorry about him. It's the quidditch captain's prerogative to wish no Slytherin player has any skill," Felton's friend Alec explained, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Does Tom Riddle play quidditch?" she asked. The whole table became very silent and Ginny very quickly realized her error.

"How do you know Riddle?" Felton questioned suspiciously.

"He saved my life," she mumbled, softly.

"Really?" Poppy asked, eager to hear the details. "Was it really heroic?"

"Not exactly. I was almost killed by the muggles who raised me," she replied, bitterly. She wondered how she could have ever thought as Poppy did now, that someone saving your life was such a great experience. She could never think that again and wished she could get that across to Pomfrey in time. "I made it to Diagon Alley and he healed me."

"Oh, well to answer your question, yes, he's Slytherin's Quidditch Captain," Felton said, seeming lighten up a bit at her answer.

"And head boy! He's head boy too!" Poppy added, smiling and giggling. Ginny watched as Felton gave her a rather dirty look, to which she only smiled sweetly, looking at their quiet friend Alyssa who merely rolled her eyes, probably used to her friend's antics.

"Well if you do try out for Quidditch, Riddle still has a problem. He lost three players last year and I doubt he'll be able to make up for the loss of his seeker, and two of his chasers. I'm sure he'll move to seeker, but that leaves him completely at a loss for chasers," Felton explained.

"Chasers?" Ginny asked, slowly smiling inwardly as Felton gave her a shocked look, that completely shocked look that she had seen once before in Ron's eyes when trying to figure out how someone didn't know how quidditch worked.

"Well I suppose we shouldn't have to worry too much should we Felton?" Alec laughed. Ginny gave a confused look.

"Say, we're leaving from Diagon tomorrow for Kings Cross. You can join us if you'd like," Alec offered. "Of course, it would be bad taste to travel with a Slytherin, but I'm sure we'll be able to live it down."

"That would be wonderful… thank you," Ginny said, a bit stunned by the kindness these people were showing. She wasn't used to it, and especially wasn't expecting it from some people of a rival house. It was like Draco Malfoy skipping up to her and asking her if she'd fancy chocolate or vanilla for her un-birthday cake. Her smile faded away when she thought more of Draco. He had turned on his father when his father tried to kill Snape two months ago. She remembered the two weeks he had been with them before he had been killed in a battle against the death eaters, killed by his father's hand no less.

Suddenly tears sprang to Ginny's eyes. She stood quickly, surprising the others. "Sorry, I have to… I have to go," she said, walking off quickly, leaving enough money to pay for her drink. She pushed the door open and half-jogged up the street. It was starting to rain again and she felt it appropriate for the terrible mood she now found herself in. Tears steamed down her face as she hurried down the alley towards the Leaky Cauldron, but before she made it there, she ran into a solid form. She looked up to see that it was one person she honestly didn't want to see her crying. She made her excuses and apologies and ducked around him, her halfhearted running turning into a full-out sprint.

She couldn't control the feeling of utter loneliness as she made it to her room, slamming the door behind her and falling onto her bed. She felt her sorrow engulf her and she couldn't pay attention to the fact that she had just shown how weak she truly was in front of none other than the great Tom Riddle. She didn't care now, all she cared about was all those that had been lost. Her terrible thoughts soon took her to the Weasley Family massacre. She cried tears she didn't know were still in her until all had dried and she lay in her bed, staring listlessly at the wall, the aching of her heart never ceasing.

Ginny wondered if she could do it, but knew she would have to find some way to stop him, whether she saved him or murdered him. She would have to stop him… or all of this would just happen all over again. She was sick of this pain, sick of this heartache and she resolved that she shouldn't have to put up with it all over again, she couldn't.

Ginny awoke the next morning with her Hogwarts Oval clasped in her small hand, a knock on the door telling her that someone was there. She glanced in a mirror, seeing that the sleep had done her well, as the red around her eyes was gone. She ran a shaky hand through her hair before opening the door. Shock gripped her as she saw who it was who was calling upon her this morning.

"Tom," she said, in surprise.

"Dumbledore requested I should apparate you to Kings Cross. He sent me an owl," Tom said, his voice low and dark.

"Oh, well I…" she looked around the room.

"Don't worry about your things. A house elf will come for them from Hogwarts," he explained. "I will be downstairs when you are ready," he added, nodding his head to her before turning and walking down the hallway.

Ginny sighed. She'd have to explain to Dumbledore that he couldn't help her out with this. Her connection to Dumbledore was already a fault in Tom's eyes. She had to catch his attention on her own with as few lies and as little manipulation as possible. She gathered her things into her trunk to give the House Elves little hassle. She performed a cleansing charm before changing her clothes into a simple green tank-top and blue jeans. She slipped her wand into her back pocket and grabbed a small back that held her Hogwarts Uniform and the small bit of money that she had left.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she spotted Tom sitting at a table, reading The Daily Prophet. He had a cup in front of him, but no food. She walked to his table and stood in front of him. Ginny wondered if she should sit down. With a wave of his wand, Tom had conjured a small plate of food, not looking up. Ginny sat down and began to eat the food, though her stomach protested. She really didn't feel up to eating, but it was better than talking to Tom about why she had been running through Diagon Alley crying. She therefore remained silent and when she had finished, Tom set his paper down and looked down at her for a moment before standing and holding out his arm.

Ginny carefully took hold of it. In a moment she felt the strange sensation of apparition. She felt a bit nauseated as they arrived in the new place, and held onto his arm, trying not to fall over. He didn't move for a moment, allowing her to get her feet back under her. Ginny pulled her arm away a moment later and held them out in front of her to be sure she could stand all right on her own. He placed a hand on her shoulder as she swayed but a moment later she was alright.

"Come on," he said, leading her through the small crowd of students. She followed quickly. He stepped onto the train and the first door he came to was open. He stepped aside, allowing her to walk in. She did so, ducking her head, slightly as she passed him. She sat down in the corner near the window, pulling a book out of her small bag. She opened it, carefully, and went to reading it, making certain to not to meet Tom's eyes as she was extremely embarrassed as it was.

She was halfway through the first chapter when she heard a clamor outside. Tom looked up as well and then at her. Their eyes met for a moment, but he stood and walked to the door. He looked out into the hallway and said something in a very low voice. When he came back in, he was followed by another. Ginny stood quickly, dropping her book aside and pulling out her wand when she saw the person's face.

"What the bloody hell is she doing here?" the gruff voice of Dolohov demanded indignantly, his own wand pointed at her. Tom looked back and forth between the two.

"Didn't I prove last time which of us was the better duelist?" she questioned tauntingly. She would not hide her true nature of being competitive and a rather proud of her dueling skills. Tom had been interested in her enough when she was a first year and she couldn't doubt that he would not find her actions in not intriguing, at least amusing.

"Y-you? You threw that spell?"

"How long were you unconscious? I was thinking with that blow it would be at least four hours, but I suppose with a head that thick, you might have woken quite sooner than I had expected," Ginny said, a sinister smile upon her lips.

"But… Potter. He was…" Dolohov was quite flustered now.

"Might I enquire as to the disagreement you had? Or how perhaps Potter was involved?" Tom asked.

Ginny smirked at Dolohov, taking her wand from his face and picking up her book from where she had discarded it. "And he thought I was in danger from that," Ginny said, sending an appraising look in Dolohov's direction before snorting. "Should you like to explain your actions to your friend?" Ginny asked, smirking at Dolohov, whose face became quite pale. Ginny figured she could leave it at that. She left the compartment, not feeling any danger that Dolohov would tell Tom much from embarrassment and fear of repercussions.

Ginny ducked into an empty compartment with her bag and her book. She set both aside, turning her eyes out the window. She honestly needed a plan. She had seen girls swoon over Tom, seen them fall at his feet, and she would not be like so many of them, would not be weak in his eyes. She was not a child. Tom Riddle was Voldemort. Voldemort was only the form he took after he had torn his soul into sevenths. She knew with even half the soul Tom had, he would not be redeemable. She pondered over that. She did not want to kill Tom Riddle. As a matter of fact, she knew she could likely not live if she had to kill someone else she knew so well.

Ginny sighed. She had had too much pain in her life to see anything as innocently as she had once before. A part of her worried that that was the innocence that had come to inspire Tom's attentions the first time, but she knew deep down that that innocence had only brought him to see how easily he could control her. She didn't want to be controlled. She wanted to make a difference, inspire a change if she could, but not be controlled. She didn't want that ever again.

Her stomach made a painful turn. She reached into her bag, pulling out a picture from the bottom of her backpack. It was a picture of everyone, just before her fourth year at Hogwarts. She ran a hand over Harry's face. She knew that she had loved him, that she could not forget him. He looked so terribly lost in this picture, but stayed by Ron's side as if leaving his best friend's would be the end of him. Ginny wondered what would have happened in that last major battle if the Weasley massacre had not occurred.

Arguably, that was the point that they had lost the war. Ginny closed her eyes, lowering her head and trying to control her emotions. She could not be seen crying again like a child. She drew a deep shuddering breath, raising her head then looking out the window as the landscape turned into rolling hills. She smiled slightly, remembering the many times she had spent with her brothers on the train.

She tried to comfort herself with these fond memories, knowing that if she succeeded, when she became older, she would be able to look around and see those people she had loved so dearly, see them and touch them with her own two hands, but for now, she would content herself with this.

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	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for your reviews. Please continue to enjoy my story. Suggestions are welcome. I am perhaps thinking of adding another character from Ginny's own time to the mix. If you think that extremely unadvisable, I think I can find away around doing so. Please tell me either way.

Ginny looked up at the glory of Hogwarts castle, a smile of homecoming in her eyes. She heard familiar voices behind her and quickly made her way to the carriages, hoping not to meet with them. Much to her chagrin, she ended up in a carriage with three people, two of whom she did know. "Tom," she said, inclining her head slightly.

"Miss Wesley," he replied in kind, observing her rather closely.

Ginny avoided his gaze, a bit irritated to once again be in Dolohov's presence, but it seemed unavoidable with him in close acquaintance with Tom. She let her displeasure be known in her face. She glared at him whenever he dared look at her. The carriage brought them closer and closer to Hogwarts, closer and closer to the safety that that large building afforded. Ginny knew that once inside, she would be infinitely more comfortable.

Wondering how much power she had over Dolohov, she slowly drew her wand out, running her fingers over it, carefully. She glanced up at him to see him glancing at her wand then away very sharply, again and again. He looked incredibly nervous. Ginny tried to swallow the giggle, but it was too much, so she placed her wand down in her lap and laughed lightly, enjoying his squirming. He sent her a glare that she laughed at.

She looked at Tom, still smiling a bit, and found him studying her intently. She widened her smile, before looking back down at her wand. The carriage went back to its silent state and Ginny went back to staring at her own wand. She really did admire it. Her old wand had been a shabby hand-me-down and the smooth surface of this wood was something she had seen only in others wands.

"What is the core?" Tom asked, suddenly. Ginny was taken aback. That was in the wizarding world, quite a personal question. One did not usually brag of the core of their wand.

"Might I ask what the core of your wand is, Tom?" she replied. He said nothing, staring down at her.

"Perhaps if we were in better company, I might have been inclined to tell you," she said. He glanced at his friend, who looked entirely displeased. Ginny was happy to see a smile, not on his lips, but indeed in his eyes. She heard a chuckle from the other person in the carriage, who she did not know and smiled at her own comment. She did decide however to put her wand away and when they reached Hogwarts, the Slytherin she didn't know got out first. She followed him and was a bit surprised when he had his hand held out to her. She smirked and took it.

"I thank you kindly sir," she said, curtseying in jest. She looked up at the door to Hogwarts, hesitating slightly before walking to it. She did not wait for the others, following the other students into the hall.

Upon entering, her eyes drifted to the ceiling, one of the things she missed most dearly since she had been separated from Hogwarts after Voldemort had taken it over. She sighed contentedly.

"It will be there all year," a silky voice said very close to her ear. She jumped and looked back at Tom, who was walking away from her now. She glanced up at the ceiling once more before following him to the Slytherin table which was the same one it had always been.

Her eyes met with the headmaster's for a brief moment his look quite calculating like he knew not what to make of her. She sat down at the Slytherin table. The girl to her right was giggling incessantly and gesturing towards Tom, while the person other tried to engage her in conversation the moment she sat down by asking rather delicately, "Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Gin Wesley," she said, coldly. She did not want to get to know many of these people and certainly not this one who kept looking at her like she was a piece of meat. He made her sick actually. "And I know more curses than you could count."

"Do you now, well I can show you things with my wand that-"

"You have got to be kidding me," she cut him off, rolling her eyes.

"Perhaps I should have been in Ravenclaw. Perhaps they have more intelligent pick up lines," Ginny muttered to herself, getting a cough from across the table, someone covering a laugh it seemed. She recognized him as the same who had helped her from the carriage earlier on. He was a bit handsome, she noted. He wasn't quite up to Tom's degree, but his face was pleasing enough and it seemed he had a sense of humor at least. Perhaps this era would not be as terrible as she had thought.

Ginny watched as the nervous first years followed closely behind a cheerful Dumbledore, who looked rather pleased with the batch of students he led in. She quickly bit down on the smile that threatened to show on her face as she thought of how wonderful Dumbledore was. She looked up at the ceiling idly, the stars were breathtaking.

Ginny looked down at the food as it appeared before her, and quickly served herself. She ate hungrily, as if she hadn't eaten for decades. She hadn't had lunch and indeed in the weeks before she had had little of anything very substantial to eat.

"You know it's not going to disappear," a voice said. Ginny set her fork down, her whole face turning bright red as she looked up at Tom's friend who she had yet to get the name of.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, looking rather abashed.

"Don't be," he said, smiling kindly at her. "Tom has told me of your encounter a few days ago. I would venture to say that I would be enjoying everything I could as fully as I could and that includes good food," he said, graciously.

"Um… I'm Gin, Gin Wesley," she said.

"Septimus, Septimus Prince," he replied. Gin started at the name, but said nothing about it. She knew very well that Snape's mother's maiden name was Prince which meant that this man was related to him… not grandfather obviously, but… uncle perhaps, which meant that he was long gone before Snape had gone to Hogwarts at least, lest this should have been brought up in her conversations with him for she had many long conversations with him even when he didn't want them to be so.

This man seemed to have very few characteristics of Severus himself, but she could see a resemblance in face at least, perhaps when she knew him more she might find him to be similar in temperament.

"What's your favorite subject?" Septimus asked, as she stared down at her food, distractedly.

"I'm quite good a charms," she said, looking up. "But I imagine Defense against the Dark Arts will be exciting as well. I have not gotten much practical experience in the area of course, which is why I look forward to it," Ginny explained.

"And potions?" he asked. She laughed inwardly, so there was the connection!

"I've made a few, but I doubt I will have any skill in the area. It seems a tedious discipline," she told him.

"Then I shall definitely have to change your perspective. What say you, Tom? Shall we show this beautiful girl the true nature of a wonderfully brewed potion?" Septimus asked.

Ginny was surprised. Septimus and Tom seemed so close. She had never though that Tom kept such company at all. He had never mentioned Septimus in his diary and she was a bit surprised. She saw no reason to not befriend him if he was friends with Tom.

Ginny spoke amiably with him, exchanging banter about which subject was better charms or potions, but it seemed by the end of dessert, they had come to a tie. Ginny was a bit put off that she had not been able to win definitively.

She followed Tom down the stairs to the dungeons. The common room, she found was a bit cold in comparison to the Gryffindor Common room but she sat by the fire and stared into it. She noticed Tom didn't leave right away. He sat on the couch not far away, also lost in his own thoughts.

Ginny's thoughts were morbidly engaged for quite a while, thinking of her family, her friends. She found herself becoming rather drowsy by the fire. Her eyes drifted closed. She didn't know for how long she had slept but she did remember a hand on her shoulder. She had looked up to see Tom looking down at her. He suggested quietly that she get some sleep before he disappeared out another door, probably on his way to the head boy/head girl dormitories. Ginny watched him go a bit surprised that he had even bothered to rouse her.

Ginny pulled herself up the stairs, tiredly and took the only empty bed in the seventh-year girls dorm. She noticed there were only two other girls and admitted herself a bit disappointed. Perhaps she would have to make friends outside of Slytherin. The prospect of creating friendships outside of her own house was daunting, but she soon remembered that she already had a few friends within Gryffindor, or acquaintances at least.

Ginny found a headache was quickly coming upon her. She dropped tiredly into her new bed, feeling the past days catch up with her fully. She drifted off, thinking of how kind Septimus had been to her.

Tom awoke in a terribly foul mood. He was greeted with Professor Slughorn asking him if he'd filled the positions for the Quidditch team yet. Of course he hadn't filled the team! They hadn't even scheduled the try-out. After that, Dumbledore had asked him how it plans, for the quidditch team, were going this year. Honestly, he could get no peace from these fools.

Why did Dumbledore care anyways, just to see him fail? He found himself incredibly upset when Septimus asked whether he fancied a one on one on the quidditch pitch that night and he had lashed out at him rather ruthlessly.

Tom began to see everyone as a prospective quidditch player. He observed each person with careful attention. Septimus, who he had been sure would not speak to him for the rest of the day, pointed out during their first class: History of Magic, that the new girl had the build for a quidditch player, perhaps a seeker or a chaser.

Tom nodded slightly. "It is likely she knows nothing of quidditch," Tom told him.

"Might as well find out then shan't we?" Septimus asked.

"That's a dreadful choice. Look at her. She's sickly pale and much too thin. I'm quite sure she'll faint right off her broom and then it'll be your fault for having killed Dumbledore's protégé. That or Potter will rescue her in the middle of the quidditch match and make the two of you look like fools for putting her out there. How do you think Dumbledore will like that?" Antonin Dolohov hissed, hitting on the two points that he knew would irritate Tom the most about the girl.

"Oh come off it, just because he tried to act like a chivalrous idiot doesn't mean Gin's best friends with Potter and his lot, and Dumbledore just wants to make himself feel important by helping the poor little orphan girl, who I daresay is not as weak and defenseless as he believes" Septimus said, effortlessly counteracting everything that Dolohov had said.

Tom listened to both rather uninterestedly. He could very well form his own opinion without those two dolts input. He saw Gin lower her head onto her arms and close her eyes and became interested. She caught on quickly that Binns could care less what they did.

His mind drifted to the day she had run into him in the middle of Diagon Alley. He had faced a lot of pain in his life and it made him strong, but what he saw in her eyes was not the distress of one incident or a series of abuse by a terrible attendant at an orphanage. There was pain in her eyes that had great depths and it was something he couldn't really understand. Perhaps… had she had a family before the orphanage? He had seen her look directly into the eyes of one of the threstrals when she was walking to their carriage, so he knew she had witnessed death, but how much.

Tom wished he had never agreed to be captain of the stupid quidditch team. He had much greater things to think about than quidditch. He felt the position frivolous and stupid, but now that he held it, he could do nothing but show how superior he was to Felton Potter. He would not be disgraced by not being able to handle such a lowly position.

Tom saw something strange out of the corner of his eye. Gin was shaking terribly. He frowned and saw that Septimus had noticed as well. His look was one of worry. "Doria!" he hissed to the person sitting beside Gin who noticed the shaking and pushed on Gin's arm until Gin awoke with a sharp gasp.

Tom watched her look wildly around before her face turned bright red as it was apt to do. Her hands still shook as she focused her attention on the history professor's endless drabble, though he suspected that the stares of her classmates did not escape her notice.

His eyes flew over the Slytherins in the great hall. He noticed two second years that always talked excitedly about quidditch and knew that they would try out. Perhaps one of them might have some kind of skill. His eyes returned to the pale, red-haired girl who was talking with a sixth year girl from their house. She had a somber look on her face, while the other girl spoke animatedly.

He wondered idly if she was as good as she thought herself to be with charms. He didn't take the girl as one to exaggerate her own skill, but he couldn't help but doubt that she was as good as she thought, being that she had taught herself.

Professor Slughorn had told him that it was his duty to ensure that the new student did not fall behind and he hoped she wasn't an incompetent witch, because he had better things to do that teach her how to perform "Alohamora".

Disgust shined in his eyes as one of _them_ sat down in front of him at the Hufflepuff table and dared look up at him. He tried to hide his hatred from being conveyed on his face. He was sickened that so many of them were here in this room sitting. Every time he thought of it, no matter how many years he'd been at Hogwarts, it still made him think of his father, and it made him feel nauseous.

Ginny watched glanced to her left as Tom stood sharply from where he was sitting halfway down the table. She frowned as he walked out of the room, quickly. She looked over the hall and caught the eyes of a freckled boy with brown hair who was watching him go, his face reddening with indignation.

Ginny stood and followed Tom, making her excuses to the girl beside her. She saw him ahead of her in the hallway and realized with horror that he was headed for the second floor. Her quick paces matched his long strides in speed. She wondered how she could divert him.

"Tom!" she called. He stopped and turned his head, not looking very pleased to be interrupted from where he was going.

"Are you alright? You left the hall so suddenly that a few of us were worried. You have not taken ill have you?" she asked, weaving her words delicately as was the manner of the day.

"I have business to deal with," he said. "If you'll excuse me."

"You're sure you are all right?" she asked.

"Perfectly well thank you," he said, bowing his head and turning, leaving her standing there, more than a bit upset.

Ginny realized suddenly that this was the year that Tom would open the chamber of secrets. She cursed. She hadn't changed a thing yet! Ginny walked quickly towards Dumbledore's office, finding him sitting behind his desk, working on what seemed a hefty pile of paperwork.

"Sir…" she said from the open door.

"Come in, come in," he said, looking up at her. He waved his wand once she had come fully inside the office and the door shut behind her. He performed what she assumed to be a silencing spell and a locking charm on the door.

"Be sure that Professor Hooch has a healthy batch of mandrakes. I fear we will need them," she said, somberly.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked.

"The heir of Slytherin is at Hogwarts," she told him. "He will open the Chamber of Secrets, and set loose the beast within."

"Beast within?" Dumbledore repeated alarmed. "Who is this heir?"

"That, I cannot tell you, sir. It would change far too many things," she replied.

"Yes, yes," he nodded. "I will point out to her the lack of knowledge her third years have on mandrakes, which they studied the second term of their second year. That should be easy enough to not rouse any suspicions."

Ginny nodded and a silence fell between them. She knew that he instantly suspected Tom, but she would not give him any more information to help him figure that out. "What manner of beast?" he asked, quietly.

"Basilisk," she murmured. If he was surprised he did not show it, only had a very somber expression.

"So it will attack the muggleborn students?" he asked.

"I believe it will," Ginny replied.

"Do you have any protection from it yourself?" he asked.

"It will not attack me," she said with certainty. "I have something inside me that will not let it hurt me."

"But the other students are in danger of it," Dumbledore muttered.

"I will try to fight protect them against it as much as possible, but I cannot tell anyone else more than what I have told you. There cannot be more protection than what I offer."

Ginny thought of the dreams she had had when the diary had taken her almost completely. She knew the faces of those that Tom would effectively petrify and even the order, but not where he would attack them. Everything was also thrown into

"It is time for class then," Dumbledore said. Ginny nodded. She went into the classroom ahead of him, which was still almost empty save a few Gryffindor Students. She sat in a seat a few rows back and waited for class to start. She was unsurprised when Tom showed up just in time to not be late for the class.

She found herself next to the chatty girl who she had first sat at the Slytherin table and, much to her chagrin; it was assigned as her permanent seat. She looked around to see that Septimus was in the desk behind her with another girl from Slytherin and Tom was to her right across the aisle sitting beside Antonin. She glanced down as she felt a surge of magic appear before her. She frowned at the note that had come from nowhere. She glanced at Dumbledore, not that she expected him to reprimand her.

She read the letter. "If you want to play quidditch meet us on the pitch before dinner tonight."

She glanced over her shoulder to see Septimus with a smirk on his face, then glanced at Tom who had no expression on his regal features. He stared loathingly at a girl in the row in front of him and Ginny had to venture a guess that she was muggle born. Ginny swallowed a sigh, seeing that this would be every bit as hard as she believed. She slid the note into her pocket, carefully, looking around the room again. She saw Felton who smiled at her, then returned her attention to the front of the room.

Please review! I mean two chapters in two days… I'll need real inspiration after this incredible feat!


	8. Chapter 8

I'm finally back, have awoken from my hibernation and decided that senior year aside, this is one thing I've always loved, writing this story and trying to find a way to make it perfect. I've written and rewritten this chapter too many times to count and I really think from its first version, it has become something much more than it was before in my mind.

Ginny's hands ran over the smooth wood of the broom as Septimus held out to her. Tom's penetrating gaze sent shivers up her spine but she stood up straight, not ducking her head or averting her gaze as she met his evenly, her eyes hardening against his scrutiny. She felt a strange but not altogether foreign pressure in her mind and she raised her hand to her forehead, clearing her emotions quickly and allowing her mind to go blank as she sent a shock of magic to her head, pushing out the intruder.

Septimus looked back and forth between Ginny and Tom, confused at what had just happened. His friend's face remained completely unaffected but his eyes were glinting strangely as if he had just found a new and interesting challenge. Ginny looked up sharply to Tom. "I may have taught myself but I am not a stranger to Legilimency," she said, darkly.

Septimus looked at Tom exasperated, but his friend had only a small smirk on his face in response. "I wonder at how you could have learned to resist it," Tom said.

"Mind Magic: Guide to Guarding your Greatest Secrets," Ginny said. She was not often called the quickest and most adaptive witches to go through Hogwarts in decades for no reason, besides Hermione had practically shoved books down their throats for as long as Ginny had known her.

"Read a quidditch manual too?" Tom asked, mounting his broom and zooming off with a challenging look. She narrowed her eyes, mounting the broom before her.

"Gin don't!" Septimus exclaimed but Ginny had already taken off. She allowed for a few hiccups in her pursuit, giving a rather convincing almost-fall that even had Tom turn to make sure she didn't slip from the broom.

"Perhaps you have potential," Tom said, calculatingly. Ginny held the broom handle hesitantly, letting it move her about a bit as she faced him, which earned her a roll of the eyes from Tom. In one swift motion he was beside her. He placed his hands over hers, showing her the proper way to hold onto the handle. Ginny had the grace to look a bit embarrassed, but when Septimus dropped to the ground below to release some bludgers, she turned the broom away from Tom, narrowly avoiding one of the feisty enchanted balls.

Ginny returned to her room a bit later, thoroughly regretting that "accidental" fall that had sent her tumbling thirty feet to the ground. Tom's condescending smirk was what she had been aiming for, but once she saw it on her face she wanted nothing more to beat him with her fist. Unluckily for her, she had broken her right arm and her left was occupied with cradling it away from him. She hadn't wanted to give him the satisfaction of healing her once again as if she couldn't take care of herself.

When Septimus had finally held her still and Tom had healed her arm she did proceed to hit him rather hard on the shoulder. Unfortunately that only seemed to make him laugh. She was furious. She had never known this humor from Tom but the entire time from the moment she hit the ground, he couldn't keep a smile from his face. He was infuriating!

She tossed her sweater on her bed, glancing at Maria Burrow, who sent her a rather nasty glare. She shook her head, walking to her bed and falling upon it, yawning lightly. Maria was the girl who had sung only praised about Tom when they had first met. Now, Maria seemed to think that Ginny was taking Tom from her or some other nonsense and had turned their other dorm mate Ruth Lestrange against her as well.

Ginny wasn't offended because she didn't like them much either. She had found a friend in Annabelle and was glad to be spared pleasantries with the two frivolous girls. Ginny was also pleased that the quidditch tryouts were only a week away. Sure, she had approached the possibility of playing quidditch scrupulously, but now that she knew skill in that area wouldn't take her further from her goal, she was determined to save her wounded pride, the pride she had turned her own knife upon. She huffed, ignoring the irritated glance that Maria sent her.

Ginny was going to do her duty, but it would take quite a while to pull Tom out of this hole of darkness. She didn't even fully know it was possible, but she'd find out. She was already accepted by Tom as a sort of friend mostly due to the fact that she didn't fall all over herself to be around him like the other girls at Hogwarts did. Now, she needed to find a way to stop him before he killed Moaning Myrtle, who she had had the… pleasure… of meeting only a few days before.

The girl was an absolutely horrendous little complainer. If anyone so much as blinked at her, she would wail and scream and go running off to a professor to tell them that she had been horribly misused. It was absolutely unbelievable. Ginny groaned inwardly, wondering why it was that girl who she had to protect more diligently than the others. She was absolutely ridiculous.

Ginny laid out on her bed, deciding that it really would be best to get some sleep. She wasn't very hungry so she simply put a ward up around her bed, common practice since Maria and Ruth had attempted to put a bunch of dung bombs in her bed while she slept. What they didn't know was she had had two very nasty brothers whose pranks far outmaneuvered their amateur attempt. She had the bombs in their beds in a few moments with a barrier to keep the smell from her and Annabelle. Smiling at the memory of their horrified faces, she allowed herself to relax into the comforter, letting sleep claim her.

A few weeks later, Ginny was finally finding herself in the swing of things. She spent most of her time around Septimus. Tom was usually hanging about somewhere, but he was a hard person to keep track of especially when he wished to be alone. She enjoyed Septimus' company quite a bit though and Dolohov's dislike for her had grown into a fervent hatred not that she really minded that. He didn't actively seek out her company which was definitely fine by her.

When she had earned the seeker position on the Slytherin Quidditch team, Septimus had used some of his shadier contacts to smuggle in quite a bit of firewhiskey and they all had quite a big hurrah for the three newest Slytherin quidditch players. The Quidditch team was lively enough. She had learned that Dolohov was a beater on the Slytherin team, but she figured she could avoid bludgers well enough since he sure as hell didn't act like he would go out of his way to protect her from one. She had caught the snitch cleanly in her first practice, but the second it had taken a couple hours and she could tell how irritated Tom was by the end. The two other chasers who had been chosen were best friends, two fourth years who were quite determined to show Tom that they could if not match his skill with a quaffle, compliment it.

Though she had endured the jeers at the beginning of try-outs, she showed quickly that just because she was a girl didn't mean she didn't belong out on the pitch. She had always had a rather physical way of playing quidditch, one had to hold their own with six brothers around. Septimus however was gradually learning that the hard way as they practiced more together, him helping her practice going after the snitch with coverage from someone bigger and stronger than her.

On this particular day, quidditch practice had just let out. Tom and Dolohov sat in the stands just watching them. Tom had a calculating look on his face while Dolohov just scoffed at her style for the most part. Professor Slughorn had gotten her a rather nice broom, a cannon of course, but very, very high end for these times. Ginny had proceeded to add a few charms to the wood to make it a bit faster than it had been.

"Oi Anton, didn't you say she was too small to play Slytherin quidditch," Septimus asked, whirling around and watching Ginny speed off towards a golden fleck in the distance after dealing a pretty harsh slam to his side. "I'm getting my arse kicked up here, little help?"

"Stop being such a bloody pansy," Dolohov suggested sourly.

"Very eloquent my friend, very eloquent," Septimus nodded. Ginny whirled around catching the snitch in her small palm and flying it back to hand it to Tom with a bow.

"You pick things up quickly," he told her, no hint of compliment or even reproach.

"Septimus here's taught me a few things," she said as she landed on the stands and dismounted the old broom. Septimus smirked doing a loop in the air before following her lead and setting his broom aside. While they were both still in their practice quidditch robes, black with Slytherin scarves, Tom and Dolohov were both in simple school robes as they had changed after practice and stowed away their brooms.

"Like... _Expelliarmus_!" Septimus said, turning to her with his wand pointed directly at her. Her wand went shooting from her pocket and she went flying back into Tom from the force of the spell, who caught her and then grabbed her wand out of the air pointing it at Septimus.

"Touche, my lord," Septimus laughed with a deep bow. Ginny grabbed her wand from him and then jumped up a few rows, wand flickering between Tom and Septimus with joking vigilence. Septimus lunged from her and she found herself grabbed around the middle and hefted up into the air. She tried to turn her wand on him but Septimus disarmed her in one smooth wrist motion. Septimus set her on the ground a moment later and she snatched her wand back from him again, chuckling lightly and sitting down a few rows above where Tom and Dolohov sat. She leaned back and looked up at the clouds a small smile coming to her face. She looked out over the pitch as Septimus sat beside her. The grass bent with the wind, rippling as if it were simply water on the lake.

Ginny frowned as she saw someone walking onto the pitch on the other side. She sat up as she recognized the red scarves on black robes and Septimus' eyes followed hers, smile fading and eyed darkening considerably. He stood and jumped the few steps down to stand in front of Tom. "My lord?" Septimus muttered. Ginny looked down at Tom, eyes keen on the dark flashes that shot through his eyes. He inclined his head in what seemed like consent. Dolohov grabbed Ginny's broom and Septimus picked up his own. Ginny stood quickly as they took off in the direction of what looked like half of the Gryffindor quidditch team.

"Tom? Tom what are they doing?" she demanded. Tom remained silent. "I thought you of all people would be more mature than... than this," she growled at him, turning and running off. She took the stairs down the the ground, at full sprint. She saw wands out and tore across the pitch, drawing her own She shouted a spell, and slowed, holding her wand with both hands as a bright white light broke from her wand, shooting directly to the ground between Septimus and the advancing Felton Potter. A large purple dome-like shape grew from the spot the white light hit, forming a huge barrier that hit both Felton and Septimus sending them flying. Both landed on the backs, leaving about ten meters between them.

"Stop it... stop it right this instant!" she ordered.

"Gin, stay out of this," Septimus and Felton said at the exact moment.

"Shut it Potter. She's no business of yours," Dolohov snapped, walking to her and stepping in front of her. Okay, that had surprised her. She stared at the back of his head unable to speak due to simple shock. Since when did Dolohov care to protect her, to act as if she was one of his own... was she? Did that mean she really was a Slytherin? Did that mean she was, if not his friend, his comrade?

"Antonin," she muttered in confusion after a moment.

"Think she'll fall in with the rest of you do you? Just wait until she sees what you truly are, what you do!" Felton spat at Septimus. Ginny's blood ran cold as Septimus raised his wand to the now unarmed, and scrawnier form that was Felton Potter, the weapon pointed directly between his eyes. She pushed Dolohov aside and ran at Septimus, tackling him, her wand completely forgotten as she simply reacted. He grabbed her roughly and moved quickly, pinning her by the shoulders beneath him. His heavy weight kept her from moving, not that she would try it now, when her friend looked so fiercely upon her. His eyes were terrifying, dark grey pools as piercing as his future nephews would become. She couldn't help the shiver that went through her, unsure what it was... fear perhaps?

"What are you doing?" he snapped. Her mind set a quick simple excuse coming to her mind.

"I'm keeping your stupid arse from getting expelled Septimus Prince," she snapped, pushing his chest hard, not that it moved him. "Can we just go, please?" she asked, using the most irritated-sounding voice she could muster.

Septimus, whose wand had not left his hand, stood quickly, pulling her up with him by her wrist. She lifted her left, shaking hand and touched it to her forehead, bringing it back to see blood on her fingers. She must have hit her head on something or other. It was only a small cut however.

"Antonin," Septimus gritted out, jerking his head as he took a firmer grip on Ginny's small wrist, pulling her after their other companion.

"Next time, tell Riddle to come himself rather than sending you to do his dirty work. I thought the Prince were supposed to be one of the noble families of the wizarding world," Felton called after him. Ginny felt Septimus stiffen, but he kept walking. Ginny watched his face and it seemed that it actually hurt him to do so. Because she asked... He kept walking because she had asked him if they could leave.

"Where'd Tom go?" Ginny muttered.

"Antonin?" Septimus said.

"Right, I'll go find him. He probably headed back to the castle," Dolohov said. Septimus pulled her along behind him, leading her down a few flights of stairs until they were what she guessed as in a room directly beneath the pitch. He pushed her in the direction of a chair which she sat in obediently. He placed her wand on the table beside her. She could only wonder how he had gotten a hold of it this time, but this was nothing like their playful fighting before. He was a Slytherin to the core. She knew that.

"Gin, you don't understand what is going on do you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper as he paced back and forth. "We... we are on the eve of a revolution, one that..." he trailed off, and looked around the room, grabbing a chair not far from hers. He pulled it very close and stared at her for a few moments. His knees bumping the outsides of hers as his face hovered maybe a couple feet from hers through the slight darkness.

"Grindelwald is at the height of his power and Tom..."

"Tom isn't allied to him is he?" Ginny asked, not expecting something like that.

"No, Gin, but..." he trailed off, as if he couldn't find the words. "Merlin, you're so like a child," he muttered, his eyes softening as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. "How you were ever placed in Slytherin, I could not tell," he whispered. Her shoulders stiffened and she clasped them in front of her. She knew that she was and had always been a Gryffindor to the core. She had learned though... learned that sometimes Slytherin was the only way. Maneuvering was a part of it all. Lies were a necessity of life. She came to understand it all the more time she spent in this time that could be so much more innocent and yet sometimes just as dark as her own. She bent her head.

"Tell me..." he whispered, in an unfamiliar tone. "Tell me what it is that makes you so... so accepting. You were nearly killed by muggles but somehow you find good in them."

Ginny looked up at him slowly, tears forming in her eyes. She had not expected such a question from Septimus. He never spoke of muggles or muggleborns. She had almost thought him neutral on the subject, but then Tom was the closest thing to a best friend he had... he even called him 'my lord' and she could tell that from him it wasn't in jest though it seemed a joke for many of the other Slytherins. She stared at him for a long moment, but found his gaze unwavering.

"Everyone... everyone has good in them. No matter whether they were blessed with all we have or not," she whispered, reaching slowly and picking up her wand, placing it across her lap. "Are we so much better because we have this," she said, waving her wand from the opposite end as if it were a stupid trinket. "Are we better simply because we can feel the true magic of everything around us in the trees and the earth. We were born to something that is greater than us, but can't you just begin to think that it is our ability to see through their eyes that makes us truly human? They bleed just as we do. They love, they live, and they lose just as we do."

Septimus stood quickly, his chair falling back. She thought for a moment he was going to yell at her, curse her, but she noticed the slight shaking of his hand and the pained expression in his eyes before he started pacing the room, as if it would help him to work his mind around everything. He seemed angry, confused, and sad all at the same time. She read it all clearly as if she had known him his whole life.

"Septimus," she whispered. "I'm not afraid of them anymore. I have no family anymore. They're all gone, dead and lost to me forever, but I can live on for them can't I? I can try to make it right. I just want to live Septimus. I just want to live and be remembered," Ginny said. "And not as some... failure, not as someone who couldn't do enough, who failed. I want to be that person that made the world a little bit better."

Septimus stopped pacing and turned to look at her. She didn't look up at his face as he walked to her, tears tracking down her cheeks. She watched him kneel, but kept her eyes on his feet too afraid to look up, that he might read in her face all the pain that she shouldn't have experienced in her life as an orphan. Suddenly she gasped as she was pulled from her chair, and her face met with a soft fabric, the scent of dirt, grass, and potions ingredients invading her senses as a pair of arms held her tightly. She felt overwhelmed as sobs took her. "I'll remember you, Gin Wesley. I promise you that." She let her own arms go around him and gripped tightly to the back of his robes when she heard those words, so close to something one of her friends might have said to her.

Septimus Prince was her friend. No matter that she wasn't supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to have lived in this time, she had created a bond with this person, this one person that would not break. Tom Riddle or not, she would not be forgotten, because he was there and he had promised her. She relaxed into his strong embrace, just letting herself cry for once not crying alone, not facing the pain alone. She felt so small, so insignificant, but at the same time, so important... at least to him, her friend.

Wow, this story is really taking a lot of time for me to fight for, but I have to admit, I do enjoy writing it. It takes bits of my life to really come into place for me to be able to really see the direction I want Ginny to take. I love suggestions honestly and if there's anything you'd like to put in, I'm always happy to listen.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for continuing to read. Some of you have questioned the direction of the story. If so, please read this:

**Important!**

I've changed a lot since the years since I began this on my other account and you may realize that whatever you see in the Ginny of my stories, I'm not trying to make her into some seductress or some kind of powerful person who can manipulate the great Lord Voldemort. She is what she is, Ginny Weasley, except I've put this Ginny through an AU world of hurt that I'm sure you can realize. I want her to feel real, to feel like a person. Ups and downs, involved. Please enjoy the story

Ginny entered the great hall with Sepitmus at her side. Annabelle smiled and waved her over. Ginny took Annabelle's right side and looked over the great hall she faced. She felt tired. Septimus sat beside her, his elbow against her arm reminding her that he wasn't going anywhere. She met the eyes of Felton Potter and could only read disappointment in them, but something else as well. He was going to try to "save" her. That look was something that had sometimes found its way to Harry's face.

She shivered and her eyes darkened and she wished everyone would stop, stop trying to save her, to make her see as they did. Damn it, she was the one who would do the manipulating. Annabelle nudged her and when Ginny glanced at her she gave her a questioning look, nodding in Felton's direction.

Ginny shook her head, suddenly irritated as Tom sat directly in front of her. She looked at the head table then at him before standing and turning to the door. Septimus caught her hand, but she pulled it out of his grasp and stalked out, the eyes of quite a few students in the packed hall following the progress of the one student leaving. She was angry, and it was difficult to hide the fact.

She was tired of acting lost and confused, of being herself but also this scared girl who didn't know where she was, who she was. Well actually it really was becoming harder and harder for her to pinpoint who she was in this time. She couldn't hold her tongue with them any longer. She couldn't stand the way they felt like she needed to be protected, looked after like some lost child.

Ginny needed to think, to be alone. Luck was not with her however as Annabelle was quick to follow her and caught up to her as she reached the Slytherin Common Room. "Ginny, stop. Is there something going on with you and... Potter?" Annabelle asked.

Ginny shook her head and kept walking for their dormitory, but Annabelle jogged up and stepped in front of her. "Ginny, you can tell me. I won't tell Tom, I swear to you, Septimus either." Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Why would I care if you told Tom anything that I do?" she asked, her voice deathly calm. Annabelle paled considerably.

"You know Tom. Anyone who... I mean he and Potter don't exactly see eye to eye... Everyone loves Tom and if he thought that you and..."

"I don't bloody care what Tom Riddle thinks about anything I do. If I have a tea party and invite the whole of Gryffindor House, I'd still not care if Tom knew. He is not my keeper. He is not my protector. He is hardly my friend if he's allowing you all to think such things about me. I would appreciate no one bother me further tonight, lest I test out a few curses I've been working on!" Ginny bit off threateningly.

Annabelle shivered, watching Ginny storm up the stairs. She had never seen eyes so wild, so terrifying, not since... that once when that one Hufflepuff kid bumped into Tom in the hall. Tom's eyes had looked like that then. No muggleborn dared touch Tom Riddle and such a fire burned in his eyes that she had thought never to see again until just moments ago.

Annabelle, just worried that her new friend Ginny was getting herself placed directly in the middle of inter-house rivals, only wanted to help. As she headed up towards the great hall, she considered the situation carefully. She honestly thought that Tom was quite fond of Ginny in one way or another.

Ginny was the only female presence he had accepted consistently around him in all his seven years at Hogwarts. Though he was known for quite a few girls that would be around for a week or two and then be iced out of his circle, he hadn't had a steady female companion ever. Annabelle always wondered what caused him to accept her, but... she figured Tom always had a hidden reason for everything, or so it seemed to her. He was the most intelligent as well as most devastatingly handsome young man in their class. Half the Slytherins called him Lord Voldemort, some thought it a joke, while a few took it more seriously, followed him more ardently.

Annabelle reached the great hall and it wasn't Tom's eyes that turned to hers in interest, but Septimus Prince's black gaze that sought hers out. She sat beside him and shrugged. "She's furious. I can't say about what exactly though," Annabelle murmured, glancing in Tom's direction. Tom, however was speaking quietly with Dolohov and didn't notice her as far as she could tell.

Annabelle wasn't the most observant of Slytherin's however, because though Tom was turned slightly away towards Antonin, he was paying very close attention and could practically feel Annabelle's eyes shift to him. Fury coursed through him instantly, but he pushed it back. He didn't know why he was becoming so worked up about this. He had seen her display earlier and was furious. How could she be so accepting of bloody muggle-lovers like Felton Potter.

What infuriated Tom the most was that he couldn't figure the little witch out. She seemed to have layer after layer of different personalities that were as easy for her to strip away as a cloak or robe. She could be playful one moment, closed the next, angry, determined, depressed, or even deluded. He couldn't tell from where each of these sides of her were born.

Her intelligence was undisputed among the seventh year students of Slytherin. She accelled in all her classes save potions, but now that Septimus had taken the seat beside her, she was steadily improving. Her marks were no where close to Tom's, but she obviously raised the bar for the rest of Hogwart's students.

He stood, heading from the room swiftly. He had better things to do. He said nothing to Dolohov just left the great hall, not wanting to be around those fools any longer.

Ginny awoke instantly to the sound of a tapping on the door. She lowered the wards around her bed and sat up. She hurried to the door and opened it, blinking the confused sleep from her eyes. The other girls stirred, letting out groans and complaints as she stared down at the house elf, who presented a letter on a silver tray for her. She took it and read it carefully, her face paling. "Thank you," she whispered to the house elf, going back into her room and closing the door. She walked quickly across the room and removing her t-shirt and shorts, throwing open her wardrobe.

"Annabelle, talk to your lunatic friend," Maria hissed, angrily through a sleep-worn voice.

"Gin, come on, it's like three in the morning," Annabelle murmured.

"I have to go out," Ginny stated.

"Go out where?" Annabelle questioned, sounding a bit more awake at that.

"It's none of your business," Ginny replied, darkly.

Annabelle snapped. "Is anything going to be my business ever? You're hardly my friend, sneaking off in the middle of the night and not even telling me where you're going. I'm trying, but I know next to nothing about you!"

Ginny pulled her robes on over her school uniform and glanced over at Annabelle through the darkness. "And maybe it's better that way," she said darkly. The room was dead silent. Not even their two snobbish roommates would step in the middle of that. Ginny strode for the door and closed it sharply behind herself.

She navigated the dark hallways of Hogwarts with ease. She headed for the Transfigurations classroom and when she reached it walked directly through until she silently entered Professor Dumbledore's office, closing the door behind herself she took the seat before his desk, sitting on the edge and looking at him intently.

"Jeffrey Morris," Dumbledore muttered.

Ginny racked her brain. "The third year?" she murmured in question. Dumbledore inclined his head. "I didn't expect him to go after a thirteen year old," she muttered.

"Perhaps you have underestimated him," Dumbledore suggested.

"I didn't say I didn't think him capable of attacking a third year. His morals are a bit skewed as I'm sure you realize," she said with a sigh.

"You were distraught at dinner. Did you foresee something like this occurring?" he asked.

"No actually, not quite this soon. I wonder sir what you think of Tom Riddle's acquaintances. I know that Dolohov will follow him, but Prince that name is half-dead in my era. What of the Prince family? Where exactly do they stand?" Ginny asked.

"Septimus is one young man I have to admit I cannot figure out completely. He has been raised by a family against any and all muggles and muggleborn integration as a rule. They would have all muggleborns out of Hogwarts in an instant if they could, but I'm not sure where Septimus stands personally," Dumbledore said. She noticed that he spoke as if he had pondered that very question before.

"So you will be able to revive Morris by the years end at least?" she asked, softly.

"I believe that would be about right. The mandrakes have not matured fully yet, but with a bit of time, we will have Mr. Morris back on his feet. I want to know how to avoid these attacks in the future," Dumbledore told her.

"I'm not sure that's possible, not quite yet. I will be certain to be more wary now and follow the heir's movements more adamantly," she promised. She could see the name Prince and Dolohov attaching themselves as possible heirs along with Tom's behind the eyes of the calculating old man. He really was trying to think too much for his own good, but at least it would draw some of the attention from Tom for a while.

"You said a girl died, the last you were here," Dumbledore said, somberly. Ginny stared at him, inclining her head slightly after a moment.

"If that happens, you will tell me who is responsible won't you?" he asked.

"Of that you have my word, professor," Ginny said, softly. She winced suddenly.

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked.

"The wards on my dorm room were breached," she muttered.

"Your dorm-mates?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, they can come and go without alerting me. I think it's Tom," she hissed. "I have to go professor."

Dumbledore nodded. "Miss Wesley," he stopped her. She paused with her hand on the door, glancing back but not turning fully. "Be careful," he told her. She turned to look at him for a moment and nodded her head sharply. She opened the door and closed it behind her carefully.

She made it halfway across the classroom before she doubled over in pain. Her wards had collapsed completely. So he was trying to get her attention then was he? Her eyes hardened. She walked swiftly through the halls taking any and all shortcuts she knew. When she bottom of the stairs leading down the dungeons she saw Tom standing a short ways down the hall, his arms crossed, eyes cold. He stalked towards her and she took a few steps back, not understanding the fear the arose within her. This was not the Tom she had gotten to know while here at Hogwarts. This was the Tom of his diary, dangerous and forbidding.

She felt the wall against her back as he stopped in front of her, his face inches from hers. She felt a strong grip clamp down on her arm and he pulled her down the hall. She was getting right tired of Slytherins pulling her about, but the horrible look in Tom's eyes made her almost shiver with fear. He pushed her into what seemed to be an empty broom cupboard. She was pushed against the wall and he held her there with a tight grip on her shoulders.

"Where were you?" he demanded. Ginny tried to pull the fear out most, concentrating on his proximity, his blazing eyes, anything to make herself appear more afraid. She was supposed to be that little orphan girl who had just a month before been almost killed by the muggles that had been raising her.

"Let go of me, Tom," she whispered, impressed herself with the slightly higher pitch that came out. She made sure her hand was quivering as she reached half-heartedly for her wand, but he grabbed her hands in one of his and slammed them against the wall above her head. She winced, gritting her teeth together. That was much rougher than necessary for such a small threat.

"Where were you?"

"Where I go is my business," she mumbled. He held her gaze steadily and she let hers slide away from his a few times as if the very heat of them were too much. It almost made her sick to act so submissive, so childish, and so very unGryffindor.

She felt a sudden pressure. "Legilimency," she thought immediately. She cleared her mind as much as possible.

She had known she wouldn't be able to hold him off if he ever truly tried to force himself into her mind. She was prepared. She watched him sift through memories of her and Septimus. She blocked out all the words that passed between them the day before. He continued to force himself at the memory and all he got was Septimus embracing her before he moved onward. She felt the drain of his power over hers.

She gasped as he tried to look into her past. Tears welled in her eyes as she couldn't keep everything out. Good thing he saw through her eyes as she looked down at Ron's body, lifeless and cold, blood flowing from his chest and neck or he might have seen that had been a fresh wound a death little over a year in her past. He didn't stop there. He found Dumbledore, found him through all her barriers against that very thing. "How are you holding up?" he asked. "I'm fine, sir." "And Riddle?" "You'd do well to try and see him as a human being, sir."

Suddenly Tom yanked out and she let out a shout of pain, leaning heavily against the wall as she tried to catch her breath. She reached for her wand and sent a powerful spell at him. He didn't block it and was thrown across the room, hitting the wall and falling to the ground. He rose swiftly and walked to her, grabbing her arm so tightly that it caused her to cringe in pain, dropping her wand. She tried to pull away from him, the break in her façade could have had much more severe consequences.

"Always another surprise with you, isn't it," he said.

"I may not be you or... or Septimus, but I am not worthless. I am never going to be weak. My mind does not belong to you," she said, fire in her eyes as held his gaze. "Try legilimens on me again and I'll do much worse to you Tom Riddle." He stared at her for a long time as if trying to figure her out, but she wouldn't let him have any power over her, wouldn't let him win. She didn't blink, didn't flinch when his grip tightened even further, didn't give him any ground.

"Point me," they heard in the corridor, then...

"Tom, Slughorn's looking for you. Someone was attacked during your rounds," a voice said from outside the door. She felt relief flood through her as she recognized the voice, and Tom seemed to realize this because his eyes narrowed at her and he stepped back sharply, walking to the door. She weighed the pros and cons of cursing him when his back was turned, ultimately deciding against it.

She raised her hand to cover her already-bruising arm as Tom threw the door open walking out with a practiced calm. She clenched her teeth together, getting only a glimpse of Septimus before the door slammed closed once more, leaving her in the dark closet to her own thoughts. She didn't feel like shying away from Tom anymore, pretending she was terrified of everything that moved. She had to change at some point and now had seemed as good a time as any. She felt she'd found a way to ease back into herself, but she would need to remember that if things got tough, she'd have to revert back to that scared little orphan whether she wanted to or not.

She sat there for well over an hour, trying to think of some way, somehow she could make this come out right. Right now Tom had all the power, but she had made it clear to him that he wasn't the only one with a backbone. She was close to control, could almost taste it, but Tom was the manipulator. She knew very well that he'd never been really manipulated except by one man, Severus Snape. She frowned, wishing her old professor could be here to tell her what she needed to do, how to make it all work. She knew that she had only to the end of the school year, if that long. Once he killed Myrtle, she was certain there was nothing else she could do to change him, to make him stop.

That was all she wanted to do, make him stop. What would Snape think of her position now? She snorted in humor, knowing there would be quite a few choice words that the nasty potions master would have for her, quite a few things he would have to say about her weaknesses, her foolishness. He would find especially nasty things to say about the way she'd broken her cover to retaliate because he'd used Legilimency on her, something she knew would happen as some point. He wasn't there to berate her though, so she'd have to chastise herself. Pulling herself together, she stood shakily, walking to the door and reaching to open it. She blinked as it was pulled open sharply before she had a chance, revealing a pair of worried black eyes set in a thin angular face.

"Septimus," she barely dared to breath. If Tom knew he'd come back here...

"Are you all right?" he asked, gently. She stared at him in shock, not used to being on the receiving end of such a look. Her arms hung limply at her sides as Septimus pulled her in a strong and very protective hug. She stared at the wall behind him in surprise, unable to move for a few moments, before allowing her right arm to wrap around him. She rested her forehead against his shoulder relaxing considerably. Her head hurt and she didn't want to pretend anymore. She just wanted to be Ginny Weasley or... Gin Wesley or whoever she was. Maybe she'd figure it out sometime, but for now, she just needed to be herself whoever that was.

Ginny opened her eyes suddenly, a thought shattering through her consciousness. She had done something, changed something. She may not have done anything to change Tom, not yet at least, but she had changed someone else. She had changed Septimus. He may not be significantly changed, but at least a little. She turned her head slightly towards him, gripping him tighter and pressing her forehead against him. She had made a difference with at least one person in Tom's life in addition to placing herself in it. A part of her wondered if that was a good thing.

She simply watched mutely as Septimus pulled back, eyes going to her left arm, and narrowing as he saw the bruises in the shape of fingers of a hand. He took her right hand looking both way before leading her carefully down the hall. She had to take a few extra steps to keep up with his long strides, but she was able to keep up well enough. He took her through corridors she had never seen before, down stairs she had never walked and through rooms she didn't know were there, and all the time all she could do was stare at him, consider what she'd done. One month and she had one of Tom's closest companions going against him to help her.

She gripped his hand pulling lightly. "Septimus," she said. He stopped and turned to her. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to the Slytherin private laboratory," he said.

"No, I mean what are you doing. You know Tom will..." She trailed off as she saw his eyes soften. He looked down at her arm, touching it lightly. She flinched.

"I know what Tom would do," he said, gripping her hand back and beginning down the hall again, walking a bit slower this time.

He led her into the small room with four tables and eight cauldrons. He led her to a chair and sat her down before walking to a closet on the other side of the room, taking out two bottles and walking back to her. He crouched in front of her. He removed the top of one of the bottles, before taking her arm and pouring the cream onto it, smoothing it over the bruises. "Drink the other," he instructed gently. She drank without hesitation, without question and he chuckled darkly. "You sure you weren't supposed to be a Gryffindor, Wesley." She shrugged, not giving anything away. She had immediately realized her mistake. No true Slytherin would drink a potion with even asking what was in it. She felt the warmth of the potion flow through her. It was a calming draft.

"Do you have any family Septimus?" she asked softly. He glanced up at her with a small smile.

"I have a younger sister, Eileen," he told her.

"How old is she?" Ginny asked.

"Almost six years now I reckon," he replied.

"Born to be Slytherin I imagine?" she said.

"There is no other house for a Prince," he jested. She chuckled and he raised his glittering black eyes to hers. He ducked his head down once more. "Spend tomorrow at Hogsmeade with me," he murmured, so softly she could hardly believe she'd heard it. She looked at the top of his head, a small warm smile finding its way to her lips. She stared at him in silence until she could practically taste his discomfort before placing a hand on his shoulder so he looked up.

"Of course, Septimus," she told him, thoroughly enjoying his anxiety. It melted away and he grinned, standing.

"You'll have to go ahead of me back to the common room," he said, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet. "I still have something to do."

She gave him a wary look. "Don't worry about me. We have classes in less than two hours. What kind of mess could I get myself in?" She nodded, walking to the door, her stomach turning over and over. She made her way through the halls, glad that the way had somewhat stayed with her. By the time she reached the common room, students were already milling about. Annabelle shot her a dark look and she sighed, but said nothing as her friend walked from the room with Maria and Ruth. Ruth made a point of shouldering her out of the way as she left the room.

Ginny stared at the ground, becoming sullen once more. She felt sadness pull at her, but she knew she could get nothing more from Annabelle. As horrible as that made her feel, Annabelle was one person she didn't want involved in this mess. She wouldn't let her get hurt by what she was getting into. This was one mess she'd be able to handle without endangering others one mess that wouldn't cost her a brother, a friend.

She realized she was just standing in the doorway and moved quickly out of the way, making her way across the room and sitting on the couch and looking into the fire, hands clasped in front of her, elbows on her knees. She felt a weight on the sofa next to her and glanced to see that it was none other than Tom Riddle.

"I'm..." he spoke.

"It's fine," she said, darkly. She kept her tone hard, her eyes going back to the fire.

"You're not someone that I should have..." he tried again.

"Why because I'm a girl? Or perhaps because my blood isn't 'tainted' as you once so eloquently put it," she snapped.

"Gin," he said. She could hear the patience in his voice wearing away.

"I know apologies are hard for you Tom, but I'm just about done defending you to Dumbledore or anyone else. Can't you just make it a bit easier for me here?" she muttered, playing off the memory that he had seen in her mind, glad that he hadn't seen the rest of that conversation, lest he'd see who and what she really was. She didn't move, but she did feel him stiffen beside her. He stood and turned away from her, leaving her to her solitude in the common room. She lowered her head, closing her eyes lightly.

"Come on, I'll walk you to class," a gruff voice said behind her.

"On orders then Antonin?" she asked coolly, not needing to turn to know whose voice that was.

"No, I haven't even spoken to Tom since last night. Just let me walk you to class," he said, coming around to stand in front of her, holding out an apple to her with one hand and the other to help her up.

She raised her hand to take the food and then took the other. He helped her up. She took out her wand, noticing him eye it carefully, but she simply summoned her bag from upstairs. She caught it was it came whizzing towards her, slinging it over her shoulder.

"Let's go then, shall we?" she asked. He nodded to her with a slight grunt and they walked out of the common room side-by-side, first time they willingly spent time together since they had met. Ginny found he was much pleasanter when he was silent and Antonin was thinking quite along the same lines as they made their way up to their Herbology lesson.

And now you're confused about what is going on. T/G... S/G... maybe even A/G... Please continue to watch it all unfurl.


	10. Chapter 10

Short chapter... thought you'd like something though... I hope you enjoy it.

Ginny smiled as she saw Hagrid across the grounds. He smiled and waved his large hand at her emphatically. She walked over to him and greeted him with a gentle smile. She had spent less time than she would have liked around the friendly half-giant and found herself glad to see him on such a gloomy day. "How are you, Hagrid?" she asked.

"I'm well Miss Gin, jus' you know gettin' back from talking to Professor Kettleburn," he said, beaming happily.

"I thought you were too young for Care of Magical Creatures," she said, with fond smile.

"Yes, but he let me into the class this year!" Hagrid said, enthusiastically.

"That's absolutely brilliant!" Ginny said, happy for him. Happy that he had already found his niche this early.

"Did ya hear about Jeffrey Morris?" he asked, his voice lowering to a hushed tone. She shook her head and he practically bounced with glee being able to tell her about it and he did in a detailed account of a group of nasty Ravenclaws hexing him and how Headmaster Dippet couldn't make heads or tails of what had happened or how to stop it. She found herself a bit glad Professor Dumbledore hadn't taken it upon himself to explain to the headmaster what had happened. That might have proved a bit tricky for her.

Ginny turned around when she heard, "Gin!", but when she saw who had called out. All she would have had to see was that Gryffindor tie and anxiety would have automatically gripped her, she turned around again quickly ready to bolt, only to stop, Tom standing directly behind her. She raised her eyes to his.

"Do you make it a habit of following me Tom?" she hissed. He smirked slightly, but didn't seem to feel the need to respond. He placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face the Gryffindor who had come to speak with her apparently.

"What do you want Felton?" she asked, coolly.

"I need to speak with you alone," Felton said, his eyes never leaving Tom who wore a superior smirk upon his regal face. Hagrid simply looked between Tom who stood with a protective hand on Ginny's shoulder and Felton who's hatred was particularly tangible.

"Gin, do you wish to have private council with this... Gryffindor?" Tom asked.

"No," Ginny said, flatly. For once Gin's response and her own melted together into that one simple word.

"Gin come on!" Felton said, walking towards her. Tom stepped in front of her fluidly, shielding her from Felton's view.

"I believe the lady said no, Potter," Tom said. She could hear the ice in his voice, had expected it even. The gentle hand on her arm however and the way it kept her hidden and protected behind his formidable presence, was something she did not expect.

"Hey, hey, can't we get along fella's?" Hagrid said, waving his hands to stop them like he were some referee in a quidditch game.

"Any trouble here Tom?" a voice asked from behind Ginny.

"None at all, Gin and I were just about to head down to the lake, care to join us, Antonin?" he asked, smoothly. Ginny watched Felton's narrowed eyes as he walked away, locking on her with confusion and more heart-wrenching look of worry. She allowed Tom's hand against her lower back to guide her the opposite direction, Dolohov taking her other side while Tom thanked Hagrid... for what she didn't know, but he stumbled off happily nonetheless.

"You should be more careful," Tom whispered.

"Careful? He's the one who's never hurt me!" she snapped, pushing his hand away from her. "Or tried," she added in Dolohov's direction. A look of sincere regret shone in Tom's eyes, while Dolohov only shrugged with a small grunt.

"Antonin," he muttered. Dolohov nodded, walking off ahead of them as they reached the edge of the lake, while Tom was left to face the angry Ginny. She was completely to her own now. She was Ginny Weasley, no matter what he did or said.

"You're very difficult to see through, Gin Wesley," he muttered, crouching beside the lake and tossing a rock that skipped along the surface, magic shimmering around it.

"And why exactly do you need to see through me Tom Riddle?" she muttered, staring down at him, clasping her hands in front of her.

"These are difficult times, Gin," he said, evasively.

"What is difficult about them? It is you and me right now. There's no Septimus, no Antonin. I want to know what it is the three of you go on about behind my back," she said. "I want to know why you stop talking whenever I come around though I don't ever try to enter your mind."

He looked up at her with a small smile, from where he crouched. "Don't miss a bit do you?" he said, looking back out over the lake.

"I've gotten very good at listening, Lord Voldemort," she muttered. He stood smoothly.

"I couldn't keep the name of that filthy muggle scum now could I?" he asked. "You haven't kept your name." She looked to him in surprise, but he wasn't looking at her. "You didn't think I couldn't tell that the name was unfamiliar to you? A teacher says Miss Wesley three times before you respond. Septimus teases you and it takes you a moment to realize he's speaking about you at all."

"If I had to guess, being practical as you are, you only altered it slightly, just enough to feel free of your past, free of whatever skeletons lurk in your closet. With that hair, I'd say, you shared lineage with the Weasley family, though I have not yet been able to figure out how you are connected to them exactly," he said. She stared at him in shock. How? How could he figure out something like that in a month no less?

"Don't worry, I won't tell Dumbledore your little secret," he said, spitting out the name like it was a venom. She shivered, taking out her wand to perform a warming charm, but he stood, stopping her by placing a hand over hers and lowering her wand. He unclasped his heavy cloak and dropped it over her shoulders.

"I truly am sorry, Gin and I don't think I can promise it won't happen again. I just... I get so angry," he muttered.

"When you're angry, why don't you go hex an inanimate object then, rather than turn it on me," she said, unable to keep the edge from her voice. He winced, but when he looked up at her, his eyes were softer.

"I will keep that in mind," he muttered, gently. "Allow me to escort you back to the castle?" he asked, offering his arm. She stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to decipher something, any kind of trick or double-standard here, but she found none so she took the offered arm. He jerked his head to Dolohov who rolled his eyes, coming to follow them.

"Quidditch next weekend?" she asked Dolohov with a smirk. "Can I expect you to block the bludgers from Hufflepuff instead of railing them at me like you did last week."

"That really depends. Are you going to fly like a girl during the Hufflepuff game?" he replied, evenly. She chuckled, shaking her head. As they walked, she tried to hide her looks of apprehension in Tom's direction, but she was particularly satisfied that he'd not noticed the veiled glances. She'd dealt with enough in her time to know that no matter how powerful Lord Voldemort was... Tom she could handle. She would make it right if she had to lay down her life to do so.

Tom's anger and paranoia were the two most powerful traits he harbored. She had so far managed to slip past them with only that one altercation but now that she'd seen it, he would no longer feel he had to work so hard to hide it from her. She knew how he treated Septimus when he did something Tom didn't approve of, and that he would not hesitate to act the same towards her. She wasn't sure she was quite one of them, but the rate it was going it was only a matter of time before she truly became a permanent member of their group, a group that she hoped to disband very carefully.

She felt like drawing away from Tom, his hand holding hers against his arm, but the need to get away was weighed with the consequences of doing so. She found that she was much better to just keep walking one step at a time, trying to add to their conversation as much as necessary. The only person she wanted to see right now would be in the Slytherin Common Room where they were headed so she let herself be comforted by that. Septimus would have some excuse to get them away from their two compatriots. She would not want to spend the rest of the evening with them. Maybe they'd go down to dinner early. That was something.

As they reached the common room, she felt her chest relax bit by bit while at the same time, her throat became more and more clenched. She couldn't let them see what she was feeling, how much she wished to be away from them. She had accepted Tom's apology, or Gin had. She couldn't let them see how her skin crawled with his touch, how sharp his voice sounded to her when he responded to Antonin.

She slid her hand from Tom's arm with a cheery smile, skipping ahead to the portrait and slipping in behind it. She scanned the room with her keen eyes, but had no luck in her search for Septimus. "Friday afternoon," she groaned to herself. "He's brewing."

"Did you finish that essay yet from yesterday, Gin?" Antonin asked. She looked over her shoulder to see him standing directly behind her as she turned her search into a walk for two of the Slytherin boys on the quidditch team who were bent over a magazine.

"Septimus was checking it over for me. You know how bad I am at Potions. You'd do better to ask Tom for help. I'd only make it worse," she said, patting his shoulder. She saw Tom disappear up the stairs behind him and waved him that direction.

"Good point," Antonin muttered, turning and following him up the stairs. After an appropriate amount of ooing and awing over the moving picture of the latest brooms in the magazine her teammates were looking over, she set off from the common room, following the labyrinth of passageways that led to the Slytherin Lab. None of the other houses had one, but to be honest it seemed Septimus was the only Slytherin to use it.

She shivered pulling Tom's cloak tighter around her, remembering that she still needed to return it to him. She cursed her stupidity for not giving it back earlier, but it seemed the dungeons were always so cold. Finally she saw the door to the potions lab up ahead and smiled, a slight bounce to her step as she closed the space between, opening the door slowly, quietly. Her eyes locked on the back of the black-haired boy's head. He stood over a book, running one long finger across the page then back and then across and so on, muttering softly.

"Do you often talk to yourself when you think we'll not notice?" she asked from the door.

"Knew you were there, Gin. If you wish to sneak around, try not wearing those ridiculously loud shoes," he said. She looked down at her feet. He was right of course. They made a quite annoying and distinct shushing noise against the stone floors, but they were so comfortable and she really didn't want to spend more of Dumbledore's Assistance Money. He leaned over, grasping the edge of a stool and pulling it up beside him. She smiled and crossed the room placing herself upon it.

She watched his hands move expertly over the ingredients. He moved with grace that would be born on to his nephew. She felt a bit sad actually at that thought. Severus Snape led such a horrible life. She would make sure that it was better for him, somehow.

"What's wrong?" Septimus asked, hands never stilling. He didn't glance at her, but she knew he was quite busy. He always seemed busy actually.

She stared at him for a long moment until he finally stopped and looked at her with those intense black eyes. She winced, knowing he was expecting an answer that she didn't want to give. His face was gentle and she knew that he was just worried. "Tom doesn't mean it you know? He's just worried about you," Septimus said after a moment. "You tend to get yourself into difficult situations."

Ginny snorted. "Like when I decided to tackle you instead of disarming you?" she asked, with a wry smile. She wondered why she had done that.

Septimus smiled gently. "We expect that of you though don't we? Pureblood or not, you were raised by muggles," he said turning back to his potion. Ginny blinked dazedly. She hadn't even thought of that. What a great conclusion. She had unknowingly helped herself by throwing herself at him rather than trying to use her wand.

"What are you making?" she asked, with a smooth transition.

"Brewing, the term would be brewing," he said, with an edge to his voice that brought a smile to her lips. Only someone with Snape's blood would be that touchy about what words she had used about his potion.

"What's the difference?" she asked.

"Brewing is an art," he said. There was a childish scowl on his face as he stirred the potion purposefully, eyes locked on the 'brew'.

"Well, should you really be using a wooden spoon? I thought Iron were more widely used," she said, just baiting him now.

"Ladle," he gritted out, reaching for a small jar.

"How much of that black stuff are you using?" she pushed.

"Crushed Beetles," he muttered. She couldn't help it anymore and began laughing at him genuinely.

"I'm only jesting Septimus," she chuckled, her eyes glinting mischievously. He looked up, his tense shoulders relaxing. He smiled slightly at her, shaking his head.

"You really take this seriously," she said, cocking her head to the side.

"I hope one day to become Potions Master here," he said, with a faint smile.

"Potions Master? Perhaps I'll have to go for Flitwick's job so I can be sure to continue taunting you every chance I get," she replied.

"Not sure you'll want that," he said.

"Why's that?"

"Flitwick's got a good seventy years left in him that's why," he said.

"Perhaps I'll go for Headmistress," she told him, smartly.

"Not likely. That'd be the end of Hogwarts for good," he said. She hit his shoulder, shaking her head. Silence fell over them. Ginny slumped slightly on her stool, finding a sort of comfort, an assurance of normalcy as she watched him brew his potion. His moves were calm and purposeful. She wished she had such a niche. He seemed to centered when he had a potion brewing before him, like this was where he belonged and he knew it.

She twisted her hands in her lap nervously, wishing she could just forget about Tom Riddle, just be normal. Perhaps Septimus could help her do that, but... no. That would be so easy, so simple. If this world were anything it was not simple. She remembered when she was younger. She had dreams of her and Harry getting married and having two beautiful kids. She had thought it would all just work out, that he'd take down the dark lord, Hermione and Ron could be together and everything would be right in the world. Now it all seemed so foolish, the way Harry had pushed her away, the way she'd let him. She really had loved him, in her own way, but her feelings in this time were just... They were all so different. She figured it had to do with her finally maturing.

Tom was so complicated and over the past few years she'd begun to realize more and more how everyone had their own story and every chapter made them different. Tom's life had been more than she could have ever dreamed when she was a second year and it had turned him into what he had become. Could she, by changing a chapter, alter the whole course of his life.

Ginny highly doubted one person was enough to change the road Tom Riddle had taken, but she had to try didn't she? Or she would have to take him out once and for all. Who would be with her though? Would Septimus stand by her side? Was she befriending the wrong people? Should she turn to Felton and his group? The line between Gryffindor and Slytherin was not as distinctly drawn as it was in her time. Felton Potter was a good man. That much she knew, but how good. Who was he exactly? Perhaps that question was beyond her figuring. She couldn't just guess haphazardly. She'd taken this route and she'd have to stay with it lest her betrayal turn all her contacts already made against her and cast doubt in the eyes of any new allies.

"What's wrong?" Septimus' gentle voice broke through her dark reverie. She raised her eyes to meet his deep black ones. His gaze was almost as intense as Tom's, but there was nothing penetrating or invasive about it. His angular face, a Prince trait no doubt, was softened by the gentleness of those eyes.

"I'm just tired. It's been an interesting couple days, no?" she asked. He nodded.

"Let's head up to the kitchens. I doubt you want to spend dinner in the great hall," he said. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"What about your potion?" she asked, glancing at it. He bowed his head, holding out his hand. She took it and he pulled her down off the stool.

"It has an hour to simmer. We can come back," he said. He draped his arm over her shoulders, leading her from the room and through the confusing corridors up towards the helpful house elves that occupied the kitchen. She allowed herself to be escorted, this time not having to act or pretend. She just simply walked, knowing he would let her think what she wanted and say what she thought. She'd still be careful, but this ally was one she didn't know she could succeed without.

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	11. Chapter 11

Wow it has been a long time for this one. If you're checking this out as a reader of my Second Chances story, thanks for having an open mind and trying on a new pairing. I hope you like this chapter those of you who have alerted this. I am very proud of it. It only took about ten rewrites and while I'm still not at the top of my game (writer's block like crazy) I'm trying to get at least something done. Read on and please give me some feedback. Remember, one simple review can often pull me through the worst of writers blocks. Thanks/

Ginny felt the pre-match gitters hit her the moment she sat up that morning after a particularly nasty nightmare. She looked around the darkened dorm room, disintersetedly. Maria's loud snores tore through the tranquility of the room and Annabelle turned over in her sleep. Once she tuned out those not so minor distractions, the room settled into darkness and Ginny felt a sudden pang in her chest. Oh how she missed Hermione's quiet company. Hermione would always comfort her when she needed comfort, scold her when she was being weak or childish, or listen when she just needed someone to hear her.

Ginny rose softly, walking to her wardrobe and taking out her quidditch robes. Tom wanted them down at the pitch at six. It was ridiculously early, but she knew an order when she heard one and didn't plan on disobeying this one. There were much better ways of defying the young dark lord, ways that would be really worth it. Tom took everything seriously, even something he seemed to find to be so below him like quidditch.

With a tired yawn, Ginny dressed in a pair of long black pants and black shirt. She then picked up her Slytherin-green jumper, first running her fingers over the two silver stripes around the right side of the collar and then her name, Wesley, standing broadly on the back in glimmering silver the number seven glittering below it, Harry's number, the number of power. It would be covered and a matching name and number would don the back of her quidditch robes.

She pulled on the leather armbands Dolohov had supplied her with. He'd grunted something about gift, and you're welcome, but he'd left before she could properly thank him for them. That was Dolohov though. He was always embarrassed to show his connections to people, especially to her really. The familiar strap across her palm reminded her of her fourth year when she'd stepped in at seeker due to Harry's ban from quidditch. With Dolohov and Septimus' help, she had improved dramatically since she'd taken her "first broom ride". She'd never be as great as Harry but she was quite good.

When Ginny got down to the common room broom in hand and robes slung over her shoulder, she found Dolohov standing there waiting for her, looking rather patient which surprised her mildly. He nodded to her, guiding her along with him a hand on her upper back, just below the back of her neck. They headed down to the great hall in silence and sat at the near end of the Slytherin table, a small assortment of food laid out before them. She and Dolohov were the only ones there so they sat to eat side-by-side, setting their brooms on Dolohov's other side, to keep them out of the way. Ginny left her robes over her shoulder, not finding them in her way.

Dolohov heaped food onto his plate while Ginny placed a small serving of fruit salad on her own. She cradled her head in her hands, feeling an enormous morning headache coming over her. Dolohov silently placed two pieces of toast on her plate and a small slice of ham. She didn't object. He was right after all. She'd need her strength and a few bites of fruit wasn't going to be enough to sustain her through a game of quidditch.

Their quiet eating was punctuated only by a few quiet yawns by Ginny and Dolohov's silverware scraping on his plate every once in a while as he hate. Ginny found herself a bit surprised when they were interrupted by a soft voice. She jumped a bit, turning her head slightly. She'd been staring at Dolohov's plate blankly as he cut up a sausage. They'd sat facing away from the door, so of course she hadn't seen Septimus walk in, or heard him due to his innate stealthiness.

"Here," Septimus muttered, voice rough with tiredness. "I thought you would need this," he told her. She looked down at the hand held in front of her, immensely relieved to see that it was a headache tonic. She nodded and he walked around the table, sitting down across from Dolohov.

Trevor and Dane, the two newest members of the team, walked in next, looking quite pale as they anticipated their first ever quidditch match. Their nervousness was apparent when they jumped at the door closing behind them. Davis had followed them in and closed it behind himself, a grim look on his face as he walked behind them to the table, sitting beside Ginny while the others went to sit beside Septimus. Davis nodded to Dolohov first, then Septimus and finally Ginny, receiving a nod in return each time.

After all three were seated and had served themselves, Ginny felt a small frown dawn on her face. Where was Tom? Then her frown deepened... she didn't need to know right now. Not even she expected herself to know his whereabouts every moment of the day. He wasn't likely to be setting the basilisk on muggleborns at five-thirty in the morning. Still, somehow it nagged at her that she didn't know where he was, if the school was safe, or... somehow this was more important than the school?... to her suddenly.... if he was safe.

"He won't be coming down for breakfast," a knowing voice said. Her eyes snapped to Dolohov, her brow furrowing. He chewed something thoroughly as he stared straight past Septimus at a spot on the wall, not really focusing.

"How did you...?" Ginny murmured, in confusion.

"You always get that look when you think about him and you chew your lip when you're worried about him," Dolohov told her, glancing at her then turning his attention down to his food. Ginny's face flamed with embarrassment and she glanced at Septimus who had hurt reflecting in his eyes, his ever-expressive eyes, but the rest of his expression, the very way he held himself confirmed what Dolohov had said to her. She looked down at her plate, one half-eaten piece of toast left there. She stood and Dolohov stood with her, picking up their brooms and handing hers to her.

She looked at him in surprise. "Not even Hufflepuff is above taking out another team's seeker before a match, especially if she's the only girl Hogwarts has let play in almost ten years," Davis said, flatly. Shock hit Ginny and then understanding and comprehension quickly followed. She hadn't really thought about that. She had to be the only female player at Hogwarts. They'd definitely be going after her.

"Thank you, Antonin," she murmured, knowing he was looking out for her. She pushed down the side of her that screamed that she didn't need protection. She followed him from the great hall wordlessly, gripping her broom tightly in her small fist. She stopped in the entrance hall to pull on her heavy quidditch robes and Dolohov waited for her to have them over her shoulders before they headed out across the grounds towards the quidditch pitch.

The more time she spent with Dolohov, the more she saw that he was much more than he first appeared. She hardly thought that he would have laid a finger on her that day in the alley. He was above things like that, she was sure. It was much more likely that Tom had ordered him to confront her, to test her mettle. No doubt, Tom had seen that she was more than a scared little girl.

Ginny had been thinking about it over the past month or so. She had run into Tom that first week a few more times than she was comfortable calling coincidence. No, she was sure that he had been lurking, he'd been watching. Now that was something in character. Tom was someone who would definitely observe his prey before striking, even if in her case, she was not prey but a potential ally.

Obviously to determine is she was worthy, if she was acceptable to him, he'd had to watch her for a while. She'd felt like she'd been taken in since that carriage ride with the three of them. She hadn't realized that his acceptance of her might have come before that or even after. She really couldn't pinpoint the moment that Tom had really let her in, which was to be expected. Tom really was the master here and she was merely a pawn in his little game of life. Well, perhaps she was more of a bishop. She smirked at that. She the bishop, Dolohov the rook, and Septimus the knight. It all settled well in her mind.

She and Dolohov entered the locker room, Ginny thanking him softly when he held the door for her. Ginny's face turned beat red when she was met with the sight of Tom's bare torso. "Sorry!" she squeaked out, turning her back immediately to face Dolohov, who remained expressionless.

"Don't worry about it Gin," Tom said quietly a few feet behind her. She'd had six older brothers, damn it. She'd seen plenty of male chest in her life. She and Harry had gotten close once, but they'd... they'd never... Her face burned and she knew she was red from her cheeks to her ears.

Ginny flinched when she felt a gentle hand settle on her shoulder, but she relaxed herself and turned to look up at him. He wore his green jumper and looked drop dead handsome as always. He led her out into the outdoor corridor carefully. Dolohov still had to change into his quidditch gear. Ginny was only in hers because there was nowhere for girls to change privately at the pitch. They walked about halfway down the walkway before Tom slowed and turned her to face him. He placed a hand on each of her shoulders, bending over slightly so they were eye level.

"Are you ready?" he asked her, his tone very serious. She nodded, meeting his dark brown eyes steadily. He stared at her searchingly for a long moment, before nodding. He straightened, keeping his grip on her shoulders. She tilted her chin up to allow her to hold his gaze still. The other guys passed them, none glancing at the two of them as they passed by. Ginny didn't break her eye-contact with Tom though to try and find out why they hadn't looked. She knew Tom wasn't finished speaking to her and his pale face bore some expression I could not comprehend..

"Okay. Remember, the Hufflepuff beaters pull a good swing play. Double at the seeker any chance you can get, otherwise you'll be left wide. They will go after you Gin. Do you understand me?" he asked, his grip on her shoulders tightening a bit. "I don't think their captain will go for you himself, respects me too much for that, but the rest of them will have a plan."

"Tom, I will be fine," she promised, annunciating each word as she lifted her right hand to cover one of his hands, gripping it tightly. "I'll get you your snitch. I promise." He nodded, a reassuring certainty in his eyes. He knew she knew what she was doing. He reminded her of the twins in that way. Charlie and Bill had always hovered over her, Ron as well, and Percy always thought of her as just a little girl that needed to be protected. The twins, though, they knew her strength and had faith in her to do what she believed what was right and hold her own while doing it. This coming from Tom made some kind of warmth grow within her.

"Come on," he muttered, releasing her shoulders, the faith he had in her abilities transferred to her own certainty. She realized that this was one of those things that drew her to him the most. He knew when someone was ready. He knew how to read her in ways that were almost unfair. It was like he knew better than she could comprehend herself.

He walked down towards the locker room, her following behind him closely. He opened the door and looked in. "Andrews! Reigni! Get your shirts on!" Tom ordered sharply. The smile on Tom's face told her that they had tried to comply quickly, very quickly by the sound of those soft curses and the stumbling around.

Tom stepped back after a moment and held the door. Ginny walked in, ducking her head under his arm as she went. She held her head high, going and taking a seat beside Septimus who took her hand, giving it a small squeeze and then giving her an uncertain, worried smile. This grated on her somehow. She didn't know where this sudden anger came from but she assumed it had something to do with what she had just realized about herself... about Tom.

"Any ideas?" Tom asked from up by the blackboard. They'd gone over their strategy again and again and a few plays were written up on the board. Tom crossed his arms, confidently. "Hufflepuff's strategy?"

"Force Gin out of the air. They'll want to make you seek and leave us one short on the chase," Davis said, eyes cold and hardened as if this were a battle he was prepared for. Ginny had been in battles. Ginny knew much more about that than him. He turned that merciless gaze on Ginny, whose eyes narrowed in response. She didn't much like Davis. He sent more bludgers at her than Dolohov and had had a few choice comments to Septimus and Dolohov when he'd found out she'd been given the seeker position. She was quite aware he didn't like the idea of a girl on the team. He had made that obvious more than once in front of her and when he didn't think she was listening.

"Don't delude yourself into thinking that that they won't knock you off of your broom, Gin," he told her. She opened her mouth to respond to that none-too-kindly, but he wasn't finished. As he cut her off before she'd begun she felt a low burning start in the pit of her stomach, beyond any anger she have ever felt before. "I know I'm not an objective voice here, but I'm only being honest. You're a good seeker. I'll give you that, but if they have to pull off their keeper and a couple chasers to get it done, they will take you out." The fire flared into liquid magma, spreading out from her chest, searing her blood vessels as it went.

"He-He's right Gin," Septimus muttered, gripping her hand in what he must have thought to be a reassuring gesture. She jerked her hand away from him sharply, fire raging within her, but she thought she had control on it for the moment. This fire wasn't Ginny's, but it wasn't Gin's either and she didn't trust herself to go on the instincts of this new being within her trying to claw out. She didn't know whether this feeling, this painful fire was on her side or her side. The insanity of it, the craziness of her thoughts, drowned out what must have been Septimus' quick explanation or apology, depending on how much he meant what he'd said. He tried to touch her again and the flames rose to her brain, switching her from her stupor, causing her to growl at him, truly growl.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, as she jumped up, and strode away from him turning sharply, to face the group as a whole. "Is Tom the only one who has any faith in me. I'm a girl, yes, but I'm also a witch and I've been through enough to know that I can take care of myself! Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean that they are better than me," she snapped, her ears roaring.

"Gin, we're only saying that you-"

"I know what you're saying Septimus! I am not deaf. I heard every word you said and every word he has said, today and before. Tom chose me! **He** chose **me** because I am good. Now, **I** am telling **you** that I will not leave my broom until it's over. Do you get what I am saying?" she demanded. Septimus just stared at her. "Antonin!" she said sharply, her burning eyes never leaving Septimus' face. "Do you have my back?" she asked.

"Until it's over," Dolohov said seriously, using her own words. The pain in Septimus' eyes as her own eyes hardened, wedging a thick slab of cement between them. Ginny walked to Dolohov, seating herself at his side and keeping her eyes pointedly from Septimus. Dane and Travis looked among the veterans of the group, and at Ginny, unable to think, let alone speak on the serious break in the teamwork that had held thus far through all their training. Ginny could feel their gazes. After a few moments, she raised her eyes to Tom once more and he looked incredibly unhappy and the look he sent Septimus could be classified as threatening.

"We have a couple of hours for the rest of you to realize that there's a quidditch match today. You will concentrate on your position and do your job or you will regret it," Tom said, eyes pausing for the longest on Davis, who looked away under the ferocity of their captain and the unspoken leader of Slytherin.

Tom walked to Ginny, sitting beside her and pulling on a set of armbands that matched her own. His handsome features were set with intense determination though it was fringed by a not-so-thin layer of anger. Ginny drew a few deep breaths, tearing her eyes away from this man who felt more like and unlike a stranger than anyone she'd ever met. She found she had ceased breathing for a few moments and drew a few long, deep breaths before turning and staring at the locker directly in front of her, zoning in, concentrating. She let her shoulders relax and felt the knot in her stomach loosening.

"Leave it Prince," Tom said coolly. The knot in her stomach tightened immediately. Tom really was angry... angry because Septimus had treated her badly, Septimus had hurt her, and Septimus had showed a lack of faith in Tom's trust in her ability. She didn't look up to meet Septimus' eyes, but saw Tom look up out of the corner of her eye. A few moments and quite likely one terrifyingly intense look from Tom and Septimus headed back to the other side of the room.

"Thank you," Ginny whispered, tone so soft that not even Dolohov would have been able to hear it from her other side. Tom nodded, almost imperceptibly.

Game time soon came upon them and Tom led the way. Davis and Dolohov walked directly behind him followed by Ginny and Septimus. Trevor and Dane took up the rear. Ginny flatly refused to even acknowledge that Septimus was beside her though he kept sending her looks.

"Good luck Gin. You'll be brilliant, really!" Trevor whispered. She turned to see him stepping back into his position. Both Dane and Trevor were giving her slightly nauseated smiles. They were definitely nervous, but they'd do fine. She knew they would. She gave them both grateful smiles before turning to face forward again.

The door suddenly opened before them. She mounted her broom, taking off beside Septimus. They flew out and around the pitch, Tom at the lead, flying along the stands, drawing boos from two of the groups. They reached the Slytherins and performed a grand upwards circle drawing a loud cheer before zooming to their places in the center.

Ginny hovered above the ground a few feet and brought herself to a state of calm, taking full control over her breathing and letting her muscles relax for now, ready to go the moment that whistle blew. She would show them what happened when you went gunning for a gunner. She smirked confidently, meeting the other teams seeker with a dead on stare. He was a small, weasel-like boy that reminded her strongly of Draco Malfoy, though she knew any Malfoys of this time would have been in Slytherin. That family had had no Hufflepuffs in their family for centuries. She looked to Tom, who nodded to her, then Dolohov who gave her an incredibly rare smile that came out more like a sneer really. Quidditch always got him in a good mood even though he was usually so sullen and grouchy. "You're a Slytherin... Anything goes," Dolohov's words echoed in her mind. He'd told her that the day before and she'd remember it well if it came down to it.

The whistle was blown and instead of flying straight up, Ginny went straight towards the other team, a very risky move. She slammed into the other teams seeker, just as he pulled up. That sent him into a nasty spin, and he went flying out of control. An approving roar went up from the Slytherin side and an angry shout came from a beater. He came at her fast. She dipped artfully to avoid it, pulling hard right and then zooming upwards, winking at Dolohov as she went, not missing a beat.

Ginny blocked out the female announcers voice, letting the game take her full focus as she shot to a high point over the pitch, out of the way of the chasers and beaters. She watched as Tom glided through the air, throwing the quaffle off to Trevor who caught it, swooped down, pushed forward, then threw the ball up, straight into Dane's hands. A bludger went sailing from Dolohov at the perfect moment, causing the Hufflepuff Keeper to veer to avoid it while Dane powered the quaffle through the middle post. She smirked. Their chasers would dominate for certain. She glanced to the Hufflepuff goal each time they scored, the only break in her search for that tell-tale gold twinkling.

"Gin, behind!" Trevor's voice carried to her out of nowhere. She pulled up in a tight spin, narrowly avoiding the Hufflepuff seeker, but not missing him as she followed through, her foot connecting with the back of the neck, sending him reeling towards the action below. Another loud, exuberant cry rose from the Slytherins, louder than any of the goals had drawn.

Ginny payed little attention to where he ended up, hoping that Dolohov pounded a bludger down his throat. She searched the skies, intently, making certain she was aware of the position of the other teams seeker a safe distance down the pitch. As the game drew on though and the Hufflepuffs saw that their only chance to win would be to catch the snitch, she saw their tactics change, become very un-Hufflepuff. There was a nod from one of the chasers and from that point onward, every movement by the other team was quite different, much more aggressive.

Not having thought too much of the change that she had registered somewhere deep in her mind, she was still keenly aware of the two beaters when they were converging just below her. She could see a play when it was coming together. She spun around to head towards Dolohov, only to find her way blocked by two chasers, inconspicuously of course. Only the players closest would notice the formation as players slowed their game rather than stopping it. They had all come together at the same time. The Slytherin team had hardly had a chance to react. Suddenly, she noticed that the seeker was also upon her, or above her really. A beater had moved from below to her other side and was coming in fast. She shot out from it only to have one of the beaters turn and shove her hard. Her hands were knocked from her broom and her elbow was jerked painfully.

Her broom flew out of control and she went from it, but she threw out a hand, determined. She had made a promise this morning and she intended to keep it. Her hand caught onto the broom and she closed it hard, gripping with her all. She swung, trying to get the momentum to get back onto it. She saw three Hufflepuffs flying for her and a small panic gripped her along with an intense burning anger. How dare they go after someone who was barely hanging on to their broom! It was underhanded. Cedric Diggory would turn over in his bloody grave if he saw this. It was even beyond most Slytherins, certainly beyond anything her own team would do.

She closed her eyes tightly as they closed in, but two bludgers went flying past her, missing by mere inches. They both found a mark, taking out one of the Hufflepuff's each. Then a green blur swooped in front of her, a fist colliding with a chaser's jaw. There was a sickening crunch followed by a spray of blood as the chaser went flying from his broom. "Riddle," she read from his jersey softly.

"Three penalties called against Hufflepuff!" the announcer was yelling. I was suddenly out of my quidditch playing mode as the words of the announcer broke through my zone. "Everyone and their grandmother saw that blatant aggression against Slytherin seeker Gin Wesley! Riddle isn't given a penalty for that right hook. Meyes is down on the pitch, looks unconscious from where I'm standing!"

"Get back up there," Tom told her, sharply. Dane swooped past. She saw that he had the quaffle. Ginny nodded, swinging hard and pulling herself up onto her broom, shooting for her high point once more as Tom flew towards the goal, tossing the quaffle off to Trevor.

"Anything else?" she called to the seeker, patronizing him.

"You don't belong here, Wesley!" he shouted at her. "This isn't a place for bloody girls," he said. "You'll get hurt and then we'll be blamed for it!"

"Hn... I don't belong here, do I?" Ginny muttered, a small smirk dawning on her face. She took off, whizzing past him. She headed straight for the Hufflepuff stands, eyes following that gold flicker closely, watching as it juked and jutted to try and get away. Suddenly it changed course completely and she flew up along the stands, realizing her mistake in positioning as she passed the group of Gryffindors, the other seeker, slamming into her hard. Her shoulder hit the stands and gave a sickening crunch and she bounded off of the wall. She screamed in pain, her arm falling limp. She was blinded by the white-hot pain.

"You promised him that snitch, Ginny Weasley, so go and get it. Are you Gryffindor or not?" she growled her herself, through gritted teeth, taking a firmer grip with her left hand and shooting off after the seeker with a vengeance. She braced herself, coming between him and the wall once more but only for a split second as she rammed into him hard, crying out at the pain in her elbow. The other seeker flew off in a spin that he would likely not recover from this time. He was going down, she knew.

The snitch flew up once more and she did too, staying with it expertly. She came within reach, waited one more moment, closing to a bit safer distance before she let go of the broom, snatching the snitch from the air. A roar went up from her right. She caught her foot on the broom and kicked off hard, flying into the crowd with another shout of pain. She felt hands carefully help her to her feet, one touching her shoulder. She cried out at the pain, but stepped away from that person, keeping her worse arm tucked close, and lifting the snitch with her left hand, ignoring the throbbing of her elbow. A roar came from all around her. It was loud and hard to distinguish if her own house were cheering as well, but she knew instinctively that they were, knew that her housemates were proud, that Tom was proud. She recognized the blue ties that told her that she was in the Ravenclaw stands.

"That was brilliant!" "Wow!" "Merlin, look at her shoulder!" "How on earth did she pull that off?" "She's as good as Tom." The voices all seemed to melt together as she fell backwards, feeling cold. The pain was so intense. She couldn't focus, her vision blurring horribly, though there were still hands holding her up, supporting her, congratulating her. None of it seemed to make coherent sense until a warm hand was pressed to the side of her face and a large hand settled on her waist supportively, the others falling away. The regal features she recognized so well were suddenly before her and he was speaking to her, smiling with pride. She stood unsteadily, but he didn't let her go. She felt herself steadying a bit.

"You do this yourself, Gin," his voice whispered in her ear. She handed him the snitch with a pain-filled smile, not even trying to see his response with her hazy vision. She took the broom he pressed tightly into her hand, gripping it tightly with her left hand, her elbow giving another sharp jolt, but she ignored it. It was nothing to the pain in her shoulder. She gripped the broom herself and mounted. He mounted one right beside her and she took off, unsteady and in pain, but on her own. She didn't need Tom to leave the field. That was the statement. She was her own, very strong person, whether a female or man.

Tom followed slightly behind her, holding the snitch high above him as they passed the Slytherins, looping around and flying towards their locker room. Once they were under cover in the corridor, Ginny tried to land, but she wasn't exactly successfully. Her feet caught the ground, her broom went flying and she went to the ground, falling forward. Her forehead caught first, then her cheek followed by a spin before she rolled along the painful earth before settling on her side, and just laying there. She fell apart, crying at the pain and trying to keep her right arm close protectively with her other arm though the pain in her left wrist was suddenly too agonizing to keep that up. She began shaking terribly, pain from her wrist, elbow and shoulder all too much to bear. Shock of course settled immediately.

Ginny felt Tom pull her up into a sitting position and wrap his left arm around her tightly, gently pressing her head towards him. She breathed heavily into his shoulder, a slight hitch to each inhale. His powerfully calming, familiar scent slowly took away some of the tension, some of the tremors. What was that smell? It hit her like the first cool breath of morning while at the same time a heavy scent she could never describe in her own thoughts flowed over her. Her pulse raced as his strong hand gripped her upper arm. "Breathe," he muttered. "Breathe with my breaths," he told her. She opened her eyes a peek to look at his chest, trying to do as he told even as she felt her whole body anticipate what he was about to do to her.

Tom leaned his cheek against the right side of her head, whispering something before pain caught her so fully that her vision danced with it. A small scream of pain tore from her, muffled by the cloth of his quidditch robes as she pressed her face to his chest hard.

After a few moments, her body relaxed, sharp pains shooting from her shoulder again and again as she collapsed against Tom, breathing heavily, sweat beading down the side of her face, and dirt and blood from her rough landing scraped the right side badly. She was bleeding heavily from a gash on her forehead but still, he held her to him not caring about ruining his clothes. He simply gripped her tightly, allowing her time to regroup from the horrible pain centered mostly around her shoulder.

"Ready?" he asked after a few minutes, as her breathing slowed slightly. He adjusted her carefully so her head was rested against his chest, her uninjured shoulder against him. That also meant however that her injured elbow and deformed wrist were jostled. He took her hand and arm in his. She felt his piercing eyes claim hers and stared back into them, unable to tear her eyes away. She heard a sick snap and pain washed through her again, but it was kept to a sharp gasp. She felt the bones repair as she kept her head down, eyes closed, now focused on Tom's hands as they gripped her hand and arm still, waiting for any other indication of continued pain.

He held her tightly to him and set his feet beneath him, pulling them both up together. He held onto her for a few more moments before she nodded again, gaining her bearings. Her shoulder and elbow still hurt like hell and her face, though he healed it in just a softly spoken spell, was covered in her own blood. She was happy though, more than happy. She was elated.

She had caught the snitch. They had won by 290 points, completely devastating the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team. Gryffindor/Slytherin was the big match, but that didn't matter right now, because they'd beaten Hufflepuff and she'd stayed on her broom until she had had that snitch in her hand. She'd kept her word.

Tom opened the door for her and Ginny stepped in with a small grin, left hand holding her right arm still so they realized she was still hurt. The team let out a hurrah and she was greeted immediately by Dane and Trevor, who of course avoided her arm, choosing the safe route by patting her on the back. "That was absolutely brilliant Gin!" Dane exclaimed. She smiled and thanked them both, softly.

Davis met her gaze, and nodded to her, apologetically, but she simply gave him a cocky grin before turning to Dolohov. She held her left hand out and he frowned, glancing at her right, then at Tom, before taking her hand in his own left and shaking it firmly.

The last one there was Septimus. The laughter died down as the two faced each other. He shifted uncomfortably then sighed. "I'm sorry I said what I said," he mumbled, as if it were some great chore. Ginny felt anger boil within her, the beginning of that fire that had consumed her before.

"I don't care what you said. I care what you thought. I wish you would have said what you thought about me from the beginning. It would have saved me a lot of wasted time with you," she growled. She stomped to her locker, unclasping her robes with her left hand and sliding them off with a bit of help from Dane. She tossed the robes in there, walking to the shower room. She pulled off her sweater, glad to see that she didn't need to ask Tom to follow her.

He had his wand in hand and the moment she had the jumper off followed by her t-shirt, he took her left forearm in his hand, looking at her elbow intently. The cold of the locker room seeped through her thin tank making her shiver. Tom waved his wand and the pain abated, but it still felt strangely unstable. She'd have to go to Pomfrey later. He used the same spell on her shoulder and the pain there instantly washed away, though it was again replaced with a full understanding that it was still unstable as her elbow. "Tom, why do you believe in me?" she asked, suddenly. He frowned, looking up at her with a confused look.

"Everyone treats me like I'm weak, like I can't handle things. You've seen me in some of my worst moments, my most pathetic moments really, but you don't treat me like..." she froze when she felt his finger to her lips, silencing her.

A very small smile lit his features. "It is because I've seen you when you're at your weakest... I know that you aren't weak, that you can handle it," he told her softly. He placed a hand on her right shoulder, carefully, staring down at it. "You shouldn't have been able to stay up in the air after that. Both Davis and Septimus tried to go to catch you, but I made them stop, because you could do it... only you... by yourself."

"Thank you Tom," Ginny whispered, looking down. He held up her shirt which she pulled on awkwardly. He helped her pull it down, helping again with her sweater He nodded and stepped away from her, giving her a few feet.

"We will be in the common room. Dolohov will escort you to the Hospital Wing," he told her. She nodded in understanding. Slytherins went no where alone. She understood that now. Tom wasn't making Dolohov protect her, just making a statement. She was theirs. She was Tom's. She shivered again but this time it was not from the cold

Ginny stashed her broom in her locker, taking out a cloak she'd left there. The house elves checked the lockers after games and practices so she knew her robes would be taken care of. She headed back towards the castle with Dolohov, completely ignoring Septimus as he followed closely behind them.

Dolohov and Ginny entered the hospital wing and Madame Tronskey patched Ginny up fairly quickly, lecturing them on the dangers of quidditch and the risk involved in trying to set a dislocated shoulder by oneself. They both let the woman go on for a while, neither one of them really listening to the ancient healer.

Ginny's thoughts were on Tom. He was so different than she would have thought. She had known that he was more than his diary made him seem, but... he was such a layered person, difficult to relate to and even more difficult to understand. He, of all of them though, was the only one who saw her as a person rather than a meek woman, which was comforting. He didn't accept weakness and he told her upfront that he knew that she wasn't weak. She even thought she might... like him. He was human, had his faults and his strengths.

She wondered why things always had to happen upon her so quickly, like an epiphany every time. Why did she suddenly have to understand Tom? Why couldn't that be an acquired thing? Why did she have to realize in a few moments that Septimus was a different person than she wanted to be, than she wanted to know. She'd been trying to fit Septimus into a mold that just didn't fit. She was confused with herself. How could she miss so much of one person and see so much of another. Her new feelings were intense and hardly believable.

This lack of faith and the abrupt of faith turned her world upside down. She couldn't hate Septimus, knew she wouldn't if given time. Still though, she couldn't let herself hate Tom any longer. It was childish because she had only felt that hate at the idea of being stuck near Tom, but now it made sense. She wasn't against Tom just afraid of being trapped. She had felt like a lion in a cage, tied down by Tom rather than drawn to him like she truly was.

Okay... do you like it hate it? Let me know what you think.


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